


Swipe Right

by thisisbiglady



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, tinder au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-01-27 20:57:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12590364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisbiglady/pseuds/thisisbiglady
Summary: Modern college Tinder AU - After downloading the dating app, Davey Jacobs stumbles across a reasonably attractive art student asking for people to take part in his drawing project. Will it be a match?





	1. Download

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, welcome to my first Newsies fan fic, and my first fic on AO3!  
> I've been on tinder for around 2 years now, so some of this is inspired by my own personal experiences - I hope you enjoy!  
> You can find me at https://this-is-big-lady.tumblr.com too :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a uni student smack-bang in the middle of studying for exams, so I'm posting the first 4 chapters now but you'll most likely have to wait for the next ones to pop up (sorry about that). While you're waiting though, feel free to send me a message on tumblr!

Davey’s thumb hovered over the GET button to the right of the app, his thoughts muddled by a sense of apprehension. He knew it was stupid to be so torn up about an app – if it really was as bad as everyone said it is, then he could simply delete it. After all, this was what he’d been waiting for since halfway through his senior year in high school: to go to college, move out of home, and become his own man. Part of which was finally diving into the dating world, something that was much easier now that he had moved out and didn’t have his parents peering over his shoulder constantly. Instead, he lived in a two bedroom apartment with his room mate, Crutchie, who was currently leaning on the door frame to Davey’s room. He was trying to suppress his laughter over Davey sitting cross legged on his bed, consumed by his inner turmoil over a damn app.

“Hey Dave,” Crutchie started, which earned a surprised yelp from Davey, coupled with his attempt to hide the embarrassing content on his phone by sliding it under his knee. Davey’s head snapped at the sudden noise as Crutchie continued, “you’re looking at that phone with more confusion than my grandma when I showed her what a selfie was. What’s up?”

“Oh, it’s… uh, nothing?” Davey cringed a little at how poor of a liar he was, and if Crutchie’s smirk was anything to go by, it was clear that the shorter boy was somewhat amused.

“Well if it’s nothing,” Crutchie made his way over to Davey’s bed, drawing out his sentence for the pure enjoyment of seeing the blush rise on his friend’s face. “You won’t mind showing it to me!” He settled down beside Davey, laying his crutches on the floor and reaching his hand under Davey’s knee, where he tried to hide the phone from Crutchie’s prying eyes.

A yell of, “No!” came from Davey as he snatched the phone away at the last second and clutched it to his chest, a look of terror in his eyes. The other boy just stared back, shocked at his normally level-headed friend’s outburst. An awkward silence spread between the two boys until Crutchie broke it.

“Okay…” he drawled, reaching down for his crutches and slowly standing up. “I’ll just go then.” Crutchie began to move towards the door until he was stopped by Davey’s utterance of, “wait.” Crutchie turned back to his friend on his bed. Davey was looking into his lap, holding his phone out, the screen glowing towards Crutchie. “Here, look.” Davey murmured, a quiet and reluctant invitation to allow his friend to see what was bothering him so much.

Crutchie took two steps towards the bed and grabbed the phone, gawking at the page on the screen.

“Tinder?!” Crutchie blurted, followed quickly by a groan from Davey as he lay himself into a foetal position. Crutchie kept staring at the phone in amazement, laughing as he sat back down onto the bed, Davey covering his hears to try and block out his friend’s reaction.

Davey tried to reason with Crutchie, but also with himself, “I’m desperate, okay? No one wants to talk to me, there’s no one interesting in my classes, and I haven’t gone on a date in what – 8 months? If you can even call prom a date… And I know that people our age don’t date anymore, it’s all about hook ups – which is a prospect that scares me more than a date – and yes I know that hook ups is what that specific app is for – what do you even do on a hook up anyway? Is there like a list of things that you have to do or –”

“Shut up! Take it.” Crutchie cut off his rambling room mate and thrust the phone back into Davey’s hands, which were no longer busy covering his ears but instead waving around as he attempted to illustrate his points. A quick glance down at his phone showed that Crutchie had downloaded Tinder onto Davey’s phone, and began setting up an account for him. But he was stopped by a Facebook prompt page, needing Davey to log in in order to continue.

Davey’s emotional rollercoaster saw no sign of stopping when he sat bolt upright, facing Crutchie as he bellowed, “you downloaded it?!”  
“Of course I did,” Crutchie shrugged. “You weren’t going to do it, so I did it for you. Now put in your information so we can get you all set up!”

Davey’s mouth opened and closed multiple times, the dark haired boy obviously trying to find the words to explain his thoughts. It wasn’t often that Crutchie got to see his high school’s ‘Walking Mouth’ speechless, but he’s proud to know he caused it this time. He finally managed to spurt out a few nonsensical words, mainly mutterings of “I” and “y’know,” finally ending with a sudden, “It’s Tinder!” Davey’s wide eyed gaze locked with Crutchie’s as his cheeks grew warmer. Crutchie just slowly nodded back at the panicked boy, muttering “I know, Davey, I downloaded it for you.” Davey blinked once, then twice, and quietly hung his head into his hands. He had gotten himself this far (with Crutchie’s help, of course), so he may as well commit to it.

“Hand me the phone,” Davey uttered as Crutchie’s face broke into a smile. “’Atta boy, Jacobs!” Crutchie said with a hint of a laugh, clapping his friend on his back as he tossed the phone to Davey. The nervous boy winced a little when Crutchie’s hand made contact with his back – although Crutchie may be smaller than him, he was certainly strong. Davey began typing in his Facebook details and tried to reassure himself by saying, “what harm could it do?” Crutchie snickered, laying back across the bed and replying the to rhetorical question with, “famous last words, Jacobs. Famous last words.”


	2. Swiping

As the night continued, the duo put the finishing touches on Davey’s profile. It had 4 photos: a sneaky portrait Crutchie took of him when he was absorbed in a text book during a late night study session, a backyard summer water gun fight with Les – Crutchie insisted he had to have at least one shirtless photo, and Davey relented after 15 minutes of protesting – a group shot of all their high school friends just after graduation, and a flush-faced Davey mid-laugh after one too many drinks. Crutchie said that they showed off different parts of what made Davey, Davey. The other boy just thought that half an hour was a ridiculous amount of time to choose photos. His profile simply read “English and Journalism student, gay, talk with me about current events, art, life, or personality types.” Simple, to the point, but allowed any potential match to start a conversation. Then came the part that Davey was dreading – the swiping.

Davey just stared at the first profile that came up. He cycled through the pictures, and his thumb hovered just above the screen while Crutchie looked on with amusement. “Left for dislike, right for like,” Crutchie chimed in when Davey still hadn’t moved.

Davey made an exasperated sigh and followed it with, “but… I don’t know what to do!” Crutchie scooted over to Davey’s side and rested this head on the other boy’s shoulder, to which Davey relaxed a little and let his head flop on top of his friend’s. The smaller boy softly stated, “it’s easy Davey… Would you want to have a coffee with this guy?” The man in the pictures, his profile said his name was Sam, stared back at him. Sam has a big grin on his face, a beer bottle in hand, wearing nothing but a pair of speedos on a boat in the afternoon sun. “He seems…” Davey searched for the correct word for a moment or two, settling on, “lively? I guess?” Crutchie playfully slapped his friend’s thigh and chastised Davey for being too nice all the time. “Coffee, or not?” Crutchie urged, he was going to get an answer out of Davey whether the boy liked it or not. “I guess…” David was interrupted by a stern look from his smaller friend, and finished his sentence with, “… not.”

“Swipe left then!” chimed Crutchie as he lent over Davey and swiped the screen to get rid of Sam. Slowly Davey got a hang of figuring out who to swipe left or right on: left on the frat-boy douches, guys who said that they were “here for a good time, not a long time”, or anyone without a bio. He swiped right on the guys who seemed genuine: they had photos showing different facets of their lives (not just semi-naked mirror pictures), an intriguing bio, or had similar interests. It was just an extra bonus if he was cute too (it was Tinder after all). And whenever he was unsure about someone, Crutchie stepped in and made the decision for him. He normally swiped right to like the guy, figuring that there’s no harm in it.

By the end of the night, Davey had a decent amount of matches waiting for him, and a couple of messages. They had even managed to find their high school friend Race on the app – so once the boys had calmed down from their laughing fit, Crutchie stole the phone and superliked him, in order to make sure that Race would see that Davey was on Tinder. A few minutes later, Davey received a text of screenshot of his profile from Race with the blue superlike border around it with the simple caption of “what the hell Jacobs?!” It was followed by a notification saying “Congratulations! You matched with Race”, showing that Race had been kind enough to swipe right on Davey. This prompted a new set of giggles from the two friends sharing Davey’s bed.

Given that the boys had class the next day, they decided to call it a night when Crutchie’s body started getting heavier and heavier against Davey’s. “Crutchie,” Davey murmured as he gently shook the boy, “it’s time to go to bed I think,” he continued. After a few more jostles and semi-conscious protests from the boy being forced back to his own room, Crutchie stood up to go brush his teeth. He wished Davey good night and parted with, “don’t do anyone I wouldn’t do,” and a wink. Davey simply rolled his eyes, a trace of a smile on his face as he went to lock his phone and plug it in overnight. But he stopped as he saw the profile on his phone. A cute boy with messy brunette hair, with a pencil in his mouth and a sketchbook in his hands. He seemed to be lost in thought, possibly looking at whatever or whomever he was sketching, or waiting for inspiration to strike. His bio read ‘I’m Jack, and I’m a Fine Arts student. I’m creating a work for my drawing class about the people who use social media and apps like this. Swipe right if you’d like to be a subject. Or get coffee.’

Davey didn’t think he’d ever swipe right on someone so fast.

He also didn’t think that the ‘It’s a match!’ screen would ever show up as fast as it did.


	3. Match

“Crutchie!” David yelled down the hall, too stunned to move. “Come here!” He could hear the sound of his friend racing to his room, the characteristic shuffle of his feet and gentle thunk of his crutches was unmissable.

The smaller boy stood confused in the doorway, taking in the irony of the situation. A few hours ago he was standing in the same spot, with Davey looking throughly bewildered. This time, Davey was positively ecstatic with a giant grin plastered on his face.  
“I’ve done it!” Davey thrust his hand up in the air, giggling to himself as he fell back on his bed. “Done what?” Crutchie inquired, making his way back to the bed he left not even two minutes ago. “Found him.”

“Found who?”

“The one…” Davey’s voice became dreamy as his eyes drifted off into space. Not having a bar of it, Crutchie smacked Davey’s arm, and the fantastical boy howled in surprise. A flash of pain and annoyance darted across Davey’s face towards Crutchie, and during this momentary lapse, Crutchie snatched the phone away.

“Come on Davey, just last week when I joked about finding ‘the one’ in my gender studies class, you gave me a 5 minute lecture on how it’s a bullshit concept made up by society and religions to keep us content! I don’t believe you think you’ve found…” Crutchie’s sentence was halted midway through as he was staring at the gorgeous guy on the screen by the name of Jack. Cute, artistic, motivated, intriguing… just Davey’s type. “I stand corrected.” He nodded and handed the phone back to the boy next to him who couldn’t wipe the grin off his face.

“I could be a piece of art, Crutchie!” A blush was slowly working his way up Davey’s face as he was getting lost in a fantasy with this Jack guy. “I wonder how good he is at drawing… what would dating an artist be like? I reckon the sex would be incr-”

“I am going to stop you right there!” The boy being subjected to Davey’s fantasies put a hand over Davey’s mouth in a bid to stop that sentence from going any further. “David Jacobs,” the use of his proper name pulled Davey back to reality, alongside the steely gaze accompanying it. “I’m happy you matched with this boy. But you know nothing about him. Calm down, wait for him to message you.”

Davey grabbed at the hand over his mouth, yanking it away in order to protest Crutchie’s statement. “Why can’t I message him first?!” Crutchie tutted at Davey, shaking his head. “Because, my child-“, “I am older than you-“ “That doesn’t matter! Because, he was the one who swiped right first. You wouldn’t have matched immediately if he didn’t!” Davey gave a little nod to approve of Crutchie’s logic, and allowed him to continue. “He is clearly interested in either having you as a subject for his drawing, for having coffee with you, or other things that tinder is so commonly used for,” Crutchie gave a little shudder at that. Although the boys had discussed sex in great length before - you didn’t stay best friends throughout high school without at least mentioning it. But it didn’t mean he wanted to imagine Davey doing the deed. Or even hearing his fantasies on the subject. “So, wait it out. Leave the ball in his court.”

Davey was torn. He desperately wanted to talk to this Jack guy, and waiting for him to message first seemed like an impossibility. He seemed like he would be interesting to talk to, Davey always enjoyed talking to artists about their work, but he had never gotten the chance to be one of the works. And really, if Jack turned out to be a jerk, at least he got to help out a fellow student with an assignment. It seemed like a win-win. But Crutchie had a point. Wait for Jack to set the tone, especially if it’s for something as important as an project.

Davey let out a sigh, looking up towards Crutchie, and saying Crutchie’s four favourite words, “I guess you’re right.” Crutchie grinned back at Davey, patting the boy’s thigh gently to comfort him. He knew that Davey was never good at being patient when he wanted something, but dating wasn’t like a book that Davey wanted to finish before the sunrise. Dating took time, it couldn’t be rushed, something Davey was going to struggle with. “I know that I’m right, Davey-boy. It’s just good to hear you say it.” Crutchie grabbed onto Davey’s leg and pushed himself up to standing, grabbing his crutch for support.

“Now, plug in your phone,” Crutchie commanded. “Put it on do not disturb for the night, and sleep. Jack will message you - he’s a fool if he doesn’t!” He made his way back to the bathroom, his toothbrush still sitting besides the sink with a blob of toothpaste on it - where he left it a few minutes ago when Davey called out to him. He heard the sound of Davey padding across the floor, and the click of a light switch turning off. Clearly Davey had listened to him and was getting some sleep for the night.

Crutchie loved Davey like a brother. He cared about him. But Davey was naïve, he’d never dated before or got his heart broken. Crutchie didn’t want him to blindly chase after the first guy in college that showed him any interest, only to end up crying over a pint of ice cream in his room late at night. Ultimately, Crutchie would be there for Davey no matter what happened. Because that’s friendship and love. And this? Well, this is Tinder that he’s talking about. Who knows what could happen.


	4. Message

A piercing alarm woke Davey from his dreamless sleep. He threw an arm over his eyes, groaning as he rolled over to fumble blindly for his phone. Begrudgingly rubbing his face, he squinted at the bright screen, stabbing at the stop button before the alarm finally switched off. He lay on his back with a huff, seeing the gentle morning light slipping through the gaps at the sides and bottom of his curtains, and stretching to wake up.

Davey stared at the ceiling for a few moments before he remembered the events of last night and sat bolt upright, scrambling to see if he had any new messages from the night before. He did, but none from the person he wanted. A couple from his family group chat, his mum wishing him well for the new week and Les sending him a picture of the new book he picked up from the library, and a couple from guys on tinder, but none from Jack. He dragged his hands through his hair in an effort to remove some of his bed hair, and pulled himself out of his bed.

He padded into into the kitchen only to be greeted by sunshine in human form, Crutchie. Through a mouthful of toast, Crutchie managed to articulate a “good morning!” to Davey, to which he simply replied, “do you always have to be so fucking chipper in the mornings?” Crutchie swallowed his toast and smiled in response, and Davey rolled his eyes and turned to make his own toast.

Thankfully the two boys didn’t live too far from campus, so after Davey finished his breakfast and had a shower, the friends walked to college together before they headed off to their respective classes - Drama on Stage and Screen for Davey, and Social Policy for Crutchie. They always enjoyed the walk, it meant they could complain to each other about what the day’s classes had in store for them, or they could grab coffee if they’d been up late studying. Crutchie’s lecture hall was on the way to Davey’s, so they said their goodbyes and Davey continued to his classroom.

30 minutes into the class, Davey couldn’t be more bored. He loved this class, but the topic of today’s lecture wasn’t capturing him. As the lecturer droned on about how Disney adapted Beauty and the Beast from its original French fairy tale, his phone dinged in his pocket. He scrambled to turn it onto silent, and checked the notification: Jack sent you a new message. An involuntary squeak of surprise came from his mouth, and he swiftly apologised to the people around him who turned to look at the commotion. His cheeks quickly went bright red, and his heart was pounding as he opened the message. Even though he felt guilty for ignoring his lecturer, this couldn’t wait.

His message said, ‘I’d love to talk to you about art sometime, but it’s pretty difficult to talk with the masterpiece ;)’

He openly gaped at the message, his blush travelling to his ears and burning his face. Did Jack really just insinuate that he, Davey Jacobs, was a masterpiece? Even if it was a cheesy pick up line coming from the fact that he listed art as one of his interests in his bio, Davey couldn’t quite believe anyone would have the balls to send him that.

Davey spoke too soon, as a second message quickly appeared under the first.

‘But seriously, I’d love to talk with you sometime. Does coffee tomorrow sound good?’

He felt like he could faint. His heart was pounding a million miles a minute and Davey swore the people sitting around him in the lecture theatre could hear it. He laughed a little to himself - more like a tiny exhalation of air - as he realised that Crutchie was right. Jack came to him first! When he managed to calm down enough that his hands stopped shaking from the adrenaline, he texted Crutchie that something urgent happened and that he needed to skip his next class to meet him. Crutchie’s tendency to do anything for his friends meant he’d definitely meet him in the quad area between their two buildings, and that’s what the duo agreed to do.

When the lecturer dismissed Davey’s class, he was the first one out the door and speed walked to the tree in the quad. Crutchie took a minute longer to reach the tree, but was panting a little, so he obviously went as fast as possible to see what was so urgent that he had to skip his Learning Sexualities course.

“Wha- What happened?” Crutchie projected as soon as he was in earshot. Davey’s smile from ear to ear showed that it clearly wasn’t a bad thing, but Crutchie was confused. Normally when someone said something was urgent, it meant it was bad. So why was Davey smiling?  
“He messaged me!” Davey all but yelled. “You were right! I didn’t do a thing and he… Jack messaged me!” He boy was bouncing on his toes, a bubble about to burst from too much excitement.

Crutch slowed down to a stop in front of Davey, processing the information. “You mean to tell me, that you texted me in the middle of a lecture - something you never do,” Davey’s head nodded furiously to prove Crutchie’s point. “And then told me it was urgent, which it probably wasn’t, because a boy messaged you on a dating app you downloaded last night?!” Davey was a little stunned at the hint of anger mixed in with Crtuchie’s surprise. He started to scuff his shoes against the dirt , and mumbling out an apology. “Well, yeah, Crutch. I guess I shouldn’t have done that and I’m sor-“

“No, don’t finish that sentence.” Crutchie hated seeing Davey like that, doubting himself and feeling like he’d done the wrong thing. He was genuinely excited for his friend, he was just surprised at the un-Davey like behaviour. Even if he was missing a lecture, he knew it was important to his friend for him to be here. Crutchie took a step closer to Davey, waving his bum leg over Davey’s feet in order to get his attention from where he was studying the ground. When Davey looked up at him, he simply asked, “What did Jack say?”

Davey’s eyes lit up as he fished in his pocket for his phone and he excitedly blurted out, “He called me a masterpiece Crutch! He really did! And he asked me out for coffee tomorrow, isn’t that exciting?!” Davey thrust his phone into Crutchie’s right hand, letting go of the hand hold of that arm’s crutch, and scanning the two messages for himself. He smiled back at his friend, and with a laugh in his voice said “That’s so great Davey, I’m so happy for you!” Davey bobbed a little side to side, a telltale sign that he was genuinely happy. “Well, what are you gonna reply, loverboy?”

“Reply? I… I don’t really know.” Davey’s smile faltered a little and his bobbing slowed. “I was kinda hoping that you’d help me, Crutch.” The younger boy couldn’t help but smile up to Davey - he’d never seen his normally hyper-focused friend get so torn up about someone. Even if it had been less than 24 hours, this kind of distraction from his constant work and worry would be good for him. “Of course I’ll help you Davey! But if Jack can wait overnight, he can wait for the next two hours. You know how much Trudy hates it when people are late to her class!” Crutchie gave the phone back to Davey who was elated to hear that his room mate was going to help him out.

Crutchie started to head off to his lecture that would be starting any second. He was going to be late and probably get called out by his lecturer for it, but he knew that it’d be worth it if it meant he got to help Davey. “Lunchroom in the Human Sciences Building, 1pm, okay?!” He yelled over his shoulder as he walked away, and saw Davey throw him a thumbs ups in acknowledgement. This was going to be a long day for Crutchie.

As he walked into the lunchroom, Crutchie could see Davey peering at his phone’s illuminated screen and picking at his fingernails. It was a bad nervous habit of his that he could never seem to break. When he reached Davey’s table, he tapped him on the shoulder, taking the boy of his reverie, even if he jumped a little. “Oh hey, Crutch. How was class?” Crutchie sighed as he slung his bag off his shoulder and plonked down on the seat next to Davey. “The usual, y’know. It was Learning Sexualities, so just lots of gay kids yelling at each other under the guise of a ‘class discussion’. At least it’s an easy pass.” Davey chuckled a little at Crutchie’s exasperation. He definitely knew the feeling of sitting through a painful class. “Anyway,” the blonde boy continued, “have you thought about what you want to say?”

With a sigh Davey nervously ran his hand through his hair and stared at the two blue message bubbles that were staring back at him. “I mean, it’s a fairly simple message right?” He looked at Crutch for approval, and he nodded back at Davey with a smile. “I should just say that coffee tomorrow works for me and ask where. I can do that.”

A few quiet moments passed as Davey’s affirmation hung in the air, and he made no move to do what he said he would. “So, do it” Crutchie prompted. He noted that Davey’s hands shook a little as he held his phone. Nerves. More silence.

“What if he kills me Crutch?” Davey’s eyes were pleading as he looked at his friend. This was Davey’s first foray into the dating world, his nerves were understandable. Good thing then that he had the ever optimistic Crutchie on his side.

Crutchie placed his hand softly over Davey’s hand longing onto his phone. “That would put a real dampener on his project, Dave.” This was met with a groan from the nervous boy, who clearly though that his friend’s attempt at humour wasn’t funny. “I’ll tell you what, how about I sit in the coffee shop too? Not at the same table, of course, but I’ll be there in case you need an easy way out. How does that sound?”

Davey’s eyes flicked between Crutchie’s face and his phone as he was processing the request. “That sounds… good.” Davey visibly relaxed at the reassurance that his best friend would be there to look after him, to which Crutchie patted him on the back. “Excellent! Now, all we have to do Dave, is accept Jack’s invitation!”

Davey took a deep breath to steady his hands and typed out a quick message to his virtual conversation partner, and showed Crutchie for approval. “‘Tomorrow sounds perfect. When and where works for you?’,” he snuck a smile at Davey who was back to picking at his nails, waiting for the go-ahead. “It’s perfect Davey! And it’s…”He looked back down at the phone at tapped the send button, telling Davey when the sent symbol appear. “Sent!”

Davey opened his mouth in panic to protest, and Crutchie slipped his index finger over his friend’s mouth to silence him. “No protests, Jacobs. I simply did what you didn’t have the balls to do.” After a moment, Davey pushed away the wrist resting under his chin, simply noting, “fair enough.”

The boys dug into their lunches - mince pasta with a very generous helping of cheese for Crutchie, and chicken sandwiches for Davey. They bitched back and forth about their classes and upcoming assignments. Thankfully they were coming up to a two week break, so they had time to relax a little and do their course work at a slightly more leisurely pace. In the middle of Davey’s animated monologue about masculinity in Beauty and the Beast, a lecture he received last week in his literature course, his phone sounded from where it was placed next to his lunch box. His heart leapt into his throat as he saw Jack’s message notification from Tinder. The monologue came to a screeching holt as he scrambled for his phone and unlocked it. Crutchie sat and watched an elated expression spread across Davey’s face.

“The Starbucks opposite the church on the south end of campus. 2pm… Oh my god Crutchie I have a date!” Davey’s eyes widened with excitement and he clutched his phone close to his chest. Crutchie couldn’t help but laugh, Davey was just too damn excited and it was the best thing he’d seen all week. “Not so loud, Jacobs!”

Only a few people had turned to look at the outburst Davey had made, but the boy was on cloud nine and couldn’t care at all. He quickly typed out a reply - Sounds great, I’ll see you there :)

“I guess I have a date with a coffee and my social policy essay too,” Crutchie added with a lilt and a smile. Davey jumped up and walked over to his friend, leaning down and wrapping his arms around Crutchie’s torso, resting somewhat awkwardly on his shoulders. “You’re seriously the best, Crutch. Was would I do without you?” The smaller boy patted Davey’s arm, and stated the obvious. “You certainly wouldn’t have a hot date tomorrow, I can tell you that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here ends the dump of chapters, and unfortunately I can't make any promises as to when the net chapter will be up due to my university exams (French plays and pigeon behaviour unfortunately takes priority....)  
> But hey, I'm a behavioural psychology student - if you leave reinforcers for me in the shape of kudos and comments, it may just increase the frequency of my writing (it's the Law of Effect, and even us psychologists aren't immune), so don't be shy!


	5. Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who finished her second year of university? This girl! So here, have a long-awaited chapter to celebrate.

As soon as Davey woke up, he could feel the butterflies in his stomach. Today was the day of his first proper date. Not just going to the movies with a bunch of friends, sitting next to a girl who he thought he liked with an arm around her shoulder. This was an honest-to-god adult coffee date with a guy who seemed interested in more than a quick make out session.

And Davey was terrified.

He groaned and rolled himself out of bed, ready to face to day. Somewhat. If he took a little longer getting ready in the bathroom, ensuring he didn’t nick his face shaving or stealing a bit of Crutchie’s conditioner in the shower, that’s for no one but him to know. Davey hoped that the toast he forced down could satiate the butterflies in his stomach, but found the opposite to be true. If anything, it made him more nervous than he was before. Stupid butterflies.

“I’m sorry, what?” Crutchie asked Davey, mid-way through preparing his lunch. He was leaning on the kitchen counter, bracing himself without his crutch, and looking to the small dining table in the adjoining room where Davey was sat.

“What?” Davey questioned, slightly muffled, as he had a hand held up to his mouth to prevent a spray of crumbs from landing on the table.

“You mentioned something about butterflies…” Crutchie could see Davey’s cheeks tint red as he looked down to the table. Today of all days he should really be careful that he didn’t say anything out loud that he didn’t mean to.

“Lemme guess, you’re nervous about your big date with Jack?” Crutchie turned back to the peanut butter and jelly sandwich he was making, and could hear Davey sigh a “yeah…” from the table.

“You’ll be fine, Davey. It’s only coffee! I’ll even make you my signature PB and J for lunch as a good luck charm.”

“It’s not _your_ signature PB and J, Crutch. it’s just PB and -“ Davey was cut off by Crutchie turning back to him, brandishing a butter knife covered in jelly.

“David Jacobs, you know better than to push a guy with a knife.” Crutchie tried to sound threatening, but the little blob of strawberry jelly that fell from the knife to the floor undercut any joking menace in his voice.

Davey stood, looking a little disgusted at the sticky addition to the kitchen floor, and walked with his plate to the sink next to his room mate.While washing the plate clean from crumbs, he retorted, “It’s a butter knife, Crutch. It couldn’t even cut through paper.” Crutchie just rolled his eyes as he pulled out two more slices of bread from the loaf, ready to help out with Davey’s lunch. “And besides, we both took behavioural psychology last semester. You know that good luck charms are bullshit.”

The taller boy shut off the water, popping the wet plate into the drying rack, and then grabbing an apple for his lunch, a banana for Crutchie’s, and a muesli bar each for both of them. It was going to be a long wait for his date.

 

* * *

 

At 1:55 Davey’s phone buzzed with a text from Crutchie saying that he was inside Starbucks with his essay, and that Jack wasn’t there yet. His butterflies from this morning had had children by now, his stomach a tossing, turning mixture of of nerves and adrenaline. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Davey stood up from the study desk where he had been staring at his laptop for the past 15 minutes, the blinking cursor on his literature assignment mocking him for being unable to focus. He slammed the laptop shut and shoved it into his bag, making a beeline for the bathroomand its mirrors to ensure that he had no remnants of peanut butter or jelly on his face, and that his hair was still in place. Reassured that his face looked as presentable as always, Davey walked out onto the busy footpath, and headed south to Starbucks.

He could feel his hands shaking, so he pushed them into his pockets to minimise the tremors. Davey’s phone vibrated against his hand, and pulled it out to check the notification. Crutchie’s name popped up on the screen above the words ‘he’s here. and cute.’ Letting out an unsteady breath, Davey slipped his phone back into his pocket and tried to walk to the little coffee shop without thinking about what he’d do when he arrived.

Being a student hotspot, he didn’t know how easy it would be to spot Jack when he was inside. The shop would likely be filled with other stressed out students cramming for mid-terms or finishing assignments at the last minute, and Davey didn’t want to stand in front of them, looking desperate as he scanned for a face he only knew from a couple of photos.

Which is why it was a blessing to see a guy with familiar floppy brown hair leaning on the wall beside the door to the small coffee shop. The boy was staring at this phone, giving Davey a second to do a once-over of him. He was wearing a blue flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. There were little flecks of colour across his hands and forearms - this had to be Jack, he had paint up his arms! Simple blue jeans and scuffed black Doc Martins finished his outfit. Davey had to admit, he pulled off the casual artist look very well.

Before he even registered what he was doing, Davey took a step into the bubble around Jack that passersby were leaving around him, and simply asked, “Jack?” The guy in question looked up from his phone, squinting a little as he was looking into the sun.

_Shit. He’s got blue eyes. He’s gorgeous._

“Oh hey! You must be Davey! I’m Jack.” He extended his hand out to Davey to shake, and after a beat too long of staring at Jack’s eyes, he got the hint and clasped Jack’s hand in his own.

_He’s got a firm grip. Oh no._

“Shall we go inside?” Jack tipped his head back in the direction of the door, Davey managing a choked agreement and dropping Jack’s hand from his own. Jack smiled and pivoted on his heel, heading towards the doors which automatically opened for him. Davey trailed a couple of steps behind him up to the counter.

_I will not look at Jack’s ass. I will not look at Jack’s ass. I will not… Jack’s got a nice ass._

Jack ordered first - a grande caffe latte, and after waving his card over the machine, he smiled back to Davey. Not that Davey was paying attention, he was just staring up at the menu board above the counter. After a few pained seconds of silence, Jack staring at Davey and the employee behind the counter staring at the pair of them, Jack reached out a hand, gently holding onto Davey’s arm. Jack pulled the stunned boy forward slightly, accompanied by the question, “What do you want, Davey?”

Davey could feel the heat of Jack’s hand through the thin button-up he was wearing, and looked down to ensure he wasn’t imagining it. He most certainly wasn’t. Jerking his head back up, he locked eyes with Jack, who was smirking with amusement at Davey’s shock. Glancing over to the bored employee, unamused by this brief exchange between her customers, Davey simply asked for a grande hot chocolate and paid.

_Get your head in the game, Jacobs. This is your first ever proper date. You can do this. Make Les proud._

They found a table by the window looking out to the street while they waited for their orders to be called. Jack leaned back comfortably, his hands resting in his lap, while Davey was perched on the edge of his chair, leaning forward with his hands clasped on the table

Jack was the first one to start the small talk, slowly carding his hand through his hair, giving Davey a quick look over. It was clear he was stressed, maybe nervous, maybe anxious? Davey’s prominent brows were furrowed together and his knuckles were turning white. Jack knew that these tinder meetings could be stressful, he certainly was when he first started, so he decided to ease the tension. “How has your day been, Davey?”

Nodding his head slightly in reply, Davey responded with a simple, “It’s been good.” He finished the sentence with a gentle smile and looked back down to the table. A flicker of confusion darted across Jack’s face at Davey’s short answer. “That’s good,” Jack continued, the pair falling into an unpleasant silence.

Davey quickly realised his blunder once Jack subtly pointed out his awkwardness to him. He desperately racked his brain for any interesting event that happened today, deciding to blurt out, “I mean, my room mate made me his ‘signature’ peanut butter and jelly sandwich today for lunch. So that was good.” Davey placed air quotes around Crutchie’s ridiculous use of the word signature, but he could see the confusion on Jack’s face morph into amusement at that. Davey also thought he could hear a spluttering laugh from someone behind a laptop a few tables away.

“Tell me Davey,” Jack started, leaning forward a little to mimic Davey’s posture. “What exactly makes a humble PB and J, “signature”?”

“Absolutely nothing, Jack!” The sentence was laced with laughter, Davey realising the idiocy of where their conversation went quickly. “It’s literally made of the cheapest bread, peanut butter, and jelly that we could find, since we’re both broke students. Nothing signature about it.” The corner of Jack’s eyes crinkled a little when he laughed, his nose scrunching as his mouth spread out in a smile. His laugh was a gentle baritone. A sound Davey could definitely get used to.

“Aw man Davey, you should try being a broke art student sometime! I don’t even have enough money for paint and pencils, yet alone peanut butter!” Jack was a very lively talker, his hands were either waving around to illustrate his point, skittering across the table. Davey was almost hypnotised by them, but was broken out of his reverie by a voice behind the counter calling out Jack and his names back to back. 

Feeling his confidence climbing and supported by Jack’s laughter, Davey quipped, “I’ll drink to that,” in reference to the drinks that Jack stood to fetch. Jack let out a huff of laughter, turning to Davey and placed a hand on the table in front of him, leaning towards Davey, intruding ever so slightly on his personal space. “That was funny, Davey,” he urged, locking eyes with his date before walking away.

_Les would be proud._

A blush was quickly rising to Davey’s cheeks under Jack’s gaze, and he tried to get it under control slightly before Jack returned. And partially succeeded, his face a gentle shade of pink that brought out the light dusting of freckles across his nose. Jack had plopped back into his seat, scooting Davey’s hot chocolate towards him and taking a huge gulp of the caffe latte. “Anything else exciting happen other than that sandwich?” Jack asked between sips.

_How the fuck can he drink that already when I can barely hold onto this scalding cup._

“Not particularly,” Davey warmed his hands on his hot chocolate cup, bouncing his fingers on it when it was too hot for his palms. “I had a literature lecture this and worked on a couple of assignments, then came here.” He couldn’t help it, Jack was too intriguing. Davey watched the muscles on his forearm move under his paint-splattered skin as he lifted the coffee cup to his mouth, brown hair falling forward on his forehead and brushing his brow while the hair at the nape of his neck curled up to his ear. And his first attempt at flirting just fell out of his mouth.

“But being here with you is definitely the best part of my day.”

_fuckfuckfuckfuckshitfuckfuck_

Jack smirked into his coffee cup, swallowing his mouthful before placing the cup back down and lifting his eyes to his date. “Davey… Whatever your last name is-“

“Jacobs.”

“Well then, Davey Jacobs, are you trying to flirt with me?”

The gentle pink across Davey’s face quickly changed to fuchsia, or at least that’s what it felt like. He was like a deer in the headlights, being called out within the first five minutes of the date. Did he admit it or deny it? If Davey was being honest, the idea of flirting with Jack wasn’t exactly repulsive. So he played the middle ground.

“Am I succeeding?”

Jack’ smirk changed into a smile, complete with a murmured, “maybe.”

_Davey, 1. Jack, 0._

A beat of silence washed over the pair, and Davey took a sip from his hot chocolate. “So veering away from my attempts of flirting with you…” Another smile from Jack - success. “How has your day been, Jack?”

“It’s probably been one of the weirder days I’ve had in a while, to tell you the truth. You know I’m a Fine Arts student, right?” Davey nodded, mid-sip. “Well, this semester my class is combined with the Dance students. We’re doing a course together called Dance and Interdisciplinarity, and-“ 

Davey waved a hand in front Jack, pulling him out of storytelling mode. “I’m sorry, I’m an English major and I have no idea what that word means.”

“Sorry to tell you Davey, but I’m 5 weeks into this course and I have no idea what it means either!” Jack articulated through his grin. “It basically means the area where dance meets other art forms - the fancy name for performance art.” Davey nodded, that made sense.

“They thought it would be good to combine dance and art students, “broaden our concept of art”,” Jack mocked, complete with air quotes, “and all that bullshit. And today we were discussing feminism and interdisciplinarity, which is cool and all, but with no warning - no bloody warning,” Jack really seemed to be iterating that point, and in a few seconds Davey would come to regret that he chose now to have a drink. “The lecturer puts up a picture of this woman, completely naked, pulling a scroll out of her vagina.”

Davey choked. Straight up choked. Not a great impression for a first date. But then again, mentioning that particular piece of live art may have not been the best topic for a first date either. After a few moments of coughing and spluttering, Davey managed to take another drink from his hot chocolate to stop the burning feeling from gagging on his previous sip.

“Woah, Davey, are you okay?” Jack’s voice was laced with concern, an arm extended and his hand rubbing Davey’s arm soothingly.

“I’m… fine…” Davey articulated while patting his chest to expel the last of his coughs. After his heart rate and breathing were back under control, the duo launched into a huge discussion about the work, and art in general, and whatever else took their fancy.

 

* * *

 

A couple of hours flew by Jack and Davey’s table, customers coming and going - even Crutchie leaving when Jack excused himself to the bathroom for a minute. He could see the date was going well and could tell Davey was doing just fine on his own - Jack was decidedly put in the ‘most probably not a murderer’ category of tinder dates.

When they noticed that the employees started giving them dirty looks as the coffee shop started to fill up in the late afternoon with students preparing for all-nighters, they thought it was probably best to wrap it up.

“Hey Davey, you know how I’m drawing people for my art project?”

“Is that the vagina class?” Davey teased.

Rolling his eyes, Jack managed to explain that no, it was not for his live art class, but for his core drawing class.“I was wondering if you’d like to be one of the people I draw?” Davey could sense a true hint of vulnerability in Jack’s eyes. Davey could say no, but he selfishly wanted to see how this captivating artist could portray him.

“I would love to Jack.” He reached forward and lightly placed his hand on top of Jack’s, and the artist’s face lit up at the confirmation that he’d have another compelling subject for his project. He fished around for something in his pocket, grabbing his phone and unlocking it before sliding it across the table.

“If you can put in your phone number, we can arrange a time for a portrait sitting?” Davey tapped in his name and number, and handing it back to it’s owner. Jack then lifted the phone in front of his face, exclaiming, “Smile!” and Davey heard a shutter click.

“Hey, not cool! I wasn’t ready!” he protested, while Jack set the candid as his contact photo. Jack spun the phone around to his date, simply admitting, “You look adorable. And I’m an artist, I like to has a visual representation of who I’m talking to.” Davey just groaned at how he was immortalised on Jack’s phone, wide-eyed with his collar slightly skew-whiff, and that damned blush still on his cheeks.

_But he called you adorable._

Jack pushed his chair back, giving him room to stand up. Davey mimicked him, and Jack took a step around to his side of the table. “So, I guess I’ll see you soon, Davey.” Jack reached up and held on to Davey’s bicep, giving it a light squeeze that made his heart soar. Jack was standing close to him, not uncomfortably, but definitely closely than a stranger would do.

“I guess you will, Jack.” Davey shot back a gentle smile and Jack grinned back. He let go of Davey’s arm and walked towards the exit, but spared Davey a glance and a small wave as he passed the window where they were sitting mere moments before. Davey was still rooted at the spot, slightly surprised at how well that had gone. Complete with a promise of a second date. Well, a session where Jack would draw him. Close enough.

_Les will never be as good as me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I took a interdisciplinarity course for my dance minor, and yes, the lecturer showed us that work. It's called Interior Scroll by Carolee Schneemann - it's actually an interesting piece, but is quite confronting. And it's the shocking story I tell people when they say that dance must be an easy subject. 
> 
> Since it's summer break where I am, I'll try to write as much as I can but I'm also working full time for the rest of summer, so no promises!
> 
> Kudos, comments, critiques are all appreciated - I hope y'all enjoyed!


	6. Sitting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So, turns out working full time sucks and means I'm super tired all the time and don't write as much as I would like to. I'm sorry this took so long!  
> Have a cute little chapter with some character development and fluff - enjoy!

After passing texts backwards and forwards between him and Jack, Davey found himself at Jack’s apartment in the afternoon of a day not too long after their coffee date. He was ready for his portrait to be drawn, perched on a small stool a couple of arm lengths in front of Jack, who had a little table set up in front of him. The flat surface on top was angled down towards him with a piece of A3 paper laid out, and a collection of pencils, sharpeners, and erasers in his lap. Jack’s phone was propped up on a small shelf behind him. He explained to Davey that he’d record the session so that if he missed anything important, he could go back to it later to draw inspiration from the recording. Jack asked his subject to angle himself slightly to his left on the stool and to relax - Davey was picking at his fingernails, and if he was as tense as he looked, Jack would have a hard time getting information out of him.

Soon the silence between the pair was filled with a gentle scratching sound from the pencil on the paper, and Davey looked around Jack’s apartment. It wasn’t huge, but it was cozy - a typical student place. They were currently in the living room, Jack sitting on a couch with a few stains and rips, and Davey’s stool was purloined from his roommate’s bedroom. Did he really say that his roommate’s name was Spot? Surely Davey wasn’t hearing him correctly. There was a window to his left where the afternoon sun was streaming in, and the curtains appeared a little worse for wear. The shelf behind the couch with Jack’s phone had a few political science textbooks - presumably Spot’s - and the walls were dotted with various drawings and paintings - presumably Jack’s.

Jack could see Davey’s eyes gliding around the room, and while Jack was trying to get a rough outline of Davey and his features, it was a little distracting. So he tried to get him to settle down the only way he knew how, talking.

“So, Davey…” The boy was snapped out of his observations by Jack’s voice, replying with a soft ‘hmm’ sound to show that he was somewhat paying attention. “I’ll ask you what I ask all my subjects. Why’d you join tinder?”

Davey balked a little at the question, slightly surprised at exactly how forward Jack was with it. He rubbed a hand across his face to hide how awkward he was feeling from the artist currently studying his facial features. “I mean, I guess there were a few reasons, if you want a list?”

“Sure,” Jack said flippantly, frustrating Davey slightly with exactly how nonchalant he was with this whole situation. “Well, I guess I was relatively lucky because I have a pretty accepting family, but we’re also Jewish, so there was a bit of a conflict between the Jewish and gay elements of my identity-“

“Lets start there. If your family was accepting, where exactly did that conflict come from?"

“We’re Reform Jews, so my family and community didn’t have a problem with me liking boys - my synagogue back home even has a lesbian rabbi - but it’s not uncommon to see people in the media twisting and interpreting holy text to support homophobia.” Davey carded a hand through his hair, tugging at it a little harder than he normally would. Why did he have to start with the topic that hit closest to home? He glanced over at Jack, who had his head down sketching furiously, or maybe he was writing words? All he could do was take a deep breath, drop his hand back into this lap, and carry on.

“And I guess being shown those perspectives every day through social media took a toll, and I probably internalised some of it along the line. That I, to some extent, expect people to do that. And even though I had an amazing support system, knowing that other people out there could use something really important to me as a way to devalue me can really hurt.” Jack’s pencil stopped skidding across the paper, and he looked up to face Davey. His eyes were honest, he was actually listening to what Davey had to say, and he could feel the breath catch in his throat at the end of his sentence.

“But as I got older I saw that my Judaism and being gay didn’t have to be seperate parts of me, they could totally interact - I’m pretty happy to say that I’m a gay Jew now. So I guess by using a dating app, I hoped I wouldn’t be interacting with people trying to pit the two against each other. I mean, I’m yet to meet any antisemitic people on tinder, but you’re also the first person I’ve met on it, so I’m one for one so far.”

Jack let out a little huff of laughter, putting down his pencil, and leaning over his table a little as he made eye contact with Davey. “That’s very true, and thank you for being so honest with me.” Jack’s easy smile was infectious, making Davey’s nerves settle down and allowing a small grin to spread across Davey’s face. “You said you had a whole list, hit me with something else.”

The pencil Jack was holding was being chewed on by its owner as Davey racked his mind for some of the other reasons. “I’m quite introverted, you know? And I guess I never really felt comfortable dating back home. Like I knew almost everyone my age in my area because we went to school together and the idea of dating someone in that tight-knit community just made me… nervous, I suppose. As did approaching someone I didn’t know, kind of a catch-22 I guess.” Jack chuckled softly at Davey’s involuntary shiver as he talked about his discomfort. It was pretty cute, if Jack was to be honest. “So I would rather be able to chat with new people with some slight veil of anonymity and see if I’d actually like to talk with them in person. Being able to connect with people from the comfort of my phone before actually meeting them makes me far more content with the idea of dating. Just… talking to people is scary.”

Davey ducked his head a little, staring at his hands in his lap. He knew it was silly: here he was, talking to a guy he met of tinder about why he was scared to talk to guys. He found the dirt buried under his fingernail very fascinating to pick at until Jack brought him back to his attention with a gentle repetition of his name. “I totally get it, Davey. Why do you think I ask people to sit for these drawings on the internet, rather than approaching people on the street? It’s easier, I understand. You ain’t got nothing to be ashamed of with me.” A small smile spread across Davey’s face, which eased Jack’s mind in knowing that he was being of some sort of help to his subject. And gave him enough courage to ask a niggling question at the back of his mind. “So then why did you choose to meet up with me, Davey?”

Davey’s eyes locked with his, and muttered a barely audible sentence that caused Jack’s heart to start hammering: “I just knew I had to meet you.”

A few moments of silence passed as both boys processed the implications of that sentence. Was it some of of simple attraction, love-at-first-sight kind of phenomenon? Or could there have been a more heavy spark between the two, an intangible sense of feeling what was to come, and the resultant revelation in hindsight? Neither party could say. But they enjoyed toying with the possibilities.

Davey had had enough time in the spotlight, it was his turn to spin this onto the artist. “So Jack,” he began, “why did you join Tinder?”

Jack couldn’t help but laugh at Davey’s change in tact, he was too smart to just let this whole session be about him. But Jack still needed to get a sketch done, so he gave Davey the abridged version. “Well, I’m bisexual, and I liked Tinder because it meant I could put it flat out in my profile and didn’t have to deal with coming out to people. And it meant I could see both men and women together, it just made life easier.” Jack’s gaze drifted down from Davey’s actual face in front of him to the sketch of Davey’s face lying on the table, meaning he missed Davey’s excited smile at hearing Jack was definitely into guys. Jack shrugged as he continued, “And I mean it’s good for casual sex, but I’ve met some pretty cool people on there too… Some that I hope that I could consider a friend.” Jack knew that already thinking of Davey as someone that he could get close to after only a few days was dangerous, buthe didn’t really mind. There was something about Davey being reserved but so willing to be open with him that pulled Jack in, and he wanted to know more about the guy whose profile made him genuinely intrigued about the person behind it.

Quickly leaning towards Jack, Davey simply answered Jack’s sentence with, “Me too, Jack. Me too.”

 

* * *

 

The pair fell into silence as Jack finished off the portrait of Davey, but they asked questions of the other when they popped into their heads. As it turned out, Davey hadn’t been to a service since moving to college - he’d yet to find a synagogue that was both close enough to his apartment and that he felt comfortable in. Jack was adopted by a local theatre artist after his parents died in a car crash when he was 7, and his roommate Spot (his correct name, another shock for Davey) is his adoptive brother too. Davey considered taking a gap year to England before college. Jack dyed his hair blonde for a year in high school, but stopped after he burnt it all off one morning when retouching his roots while hungover.

When Jack’s pencil finally stopped scratching across the pencil, the sun that was stretching across the floor had disappeared behind an adjacent building and Davey could feel his bones stiffening from sitting upright on the stool for hours on end. Jack leaned back into the couch, sighing with a hint of laughter in his voice. “I’m done, ol’ Davey boy!”

Davey just groaned, leaning forward to push himself up to standing, hearing a couple of joints click as he did so. He could help but wonder exactly how Spot could ever want to use that stool for more than chucking dirty clothes on top of it. Davey took a step towards Jack, asking if he could see the drawing. Jack snatched the paper off the table and gently help it facing towards his chest, insisting that he couldn’t see it until it was done. After a bit of moaning and whining on Davey’s part (he just wanted to see how Jack saw him, was that such a crime?), his stomach decided to let out a rather loud growl. Realising that they both skipped dinner because of the portrait sitting, Davey took that as his cue to say goodnight to Jack and to go find some food for himself.

Jack walked him to the door, and leaned against the door frame to say goodbye. He quickly reached out to brush his hand against Davey’s wrist, both boys staring down at the point of contact between the two of them. It didn’t feel like sparks, or electricity between the two of them, but more like a comfortable warmth. Like when you’re leaning against a sunny window in summer, or like slipping into a item of clothing after it’s just come out of the drier. It just felt right.

“Thanks for doing a sitting and being so honest with me, Davey. I, uh, really enjoyed it.” Jack’s eyes were still cast downwards in an attempt to hide his blush. Being honest with his emotions always scared Jack a little, while Davey thought it was incredibly endearing. The taller moved shifted his arm so he gently held Jack’s forearm, insisting that he had an equally great time, and couldn’t wait until he saw the finished product. Davey dropped his hand from Jack’s arm, turning towards the door and reaching towards the doorknob, but froze before he could turn it.

Because Jack’s placed a very soft kiss on Davey’s cheek. It was light, gentle, and barely there, and yet it was. As soon as Davey felt the pressure on his cheek, it was gone, but the way his heart soared was unmistakable. He turned with a stunned expression towards Jack, with whom he locked eyes in an instant.

“Text me when you get home safe,” he insisted, his eyes displaying an honestly and vulnerability that made Davey melt. Not trusting his voice to not betray him, Davey just smiled and nodded, before slipping out onto the doorstep and closing the door behind him.


	7. Study

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back?!  
> I'm sorry that this story has been so slow going, but I managed to find enough time between my total immersion French classes in France to write a chapter for y'all!   
> And to everyone and anyone who has left kudos and/or comments here or at my tumblr, @this-is-big-lady, I wanna thank you from the bottom of my heart. You're the reason why I pushed this chapter through, and why I keep writing this silly little idea that people actually like!   
> Anyway, on to the story!

As their final exams grew closer, as did Jack and Davey. They made time to see each other when they didn’t have classes, but even when they were busy they still maintained conversations via text. Given Davey’s particular dedication to his studies, the pair had yet to go on another date - Davey ascertained that study dates didn’t count. On these not-date dates, Davey would spread all his notes and text books across every possible surface, plonking himself right in the middle of it all. Jack by comparison would sit in place for hours, working away meticulously at his workbooks and final projects for his art classes. 

Despite the constant pleading, Jack was yet to let Davey see the drawing of him. Little did Davey know, Jack had far greater plans than a simple drawing. He had received confirmation that morning from the coordinator of his drawing class to allow him to take on the more ambitious project, and Jack was beyond thrilled. There was just something about Davey that couldn’t captured in one simple pencil sketch. Which was one of the reasons why Jack insisted on studying together, he need more inspiration, but also needed Davey’s guard down to get a true insight as to who he was. He’d told Davey plenty of half-truths - “You’ve got a calming presence, Dave. You help me keep my focus,” “Your study playlists are the best, and the Spotify link you’re sending me doesn’t work. Can’t you just come over?”, and Jack’s personal favourite, “I accidentally borrowed your your pen last study date, I’ll come over to your apartment to return it. And I brought everything I need to finish this painting. Mind if I stay while you study?”

Davey’s protests were always half-hearted when Jack came up with some silly excuse to study together. If he made it through high school while sharing a bedroom and study space with Les, he could deal with a much cuter and much less annoying person sharing his space. It always made him happy that Jack wanted to spend time with him, no matter the pretext. It was clear to both of the boys that they were friends, you couldn’t willingly spend hours together and not classify yourselves as friends. But they also hadn’t discussed the kiss Jack gave Davey after his portrait sitting. Although Jack was a friendly guy, he didn’t seem like the type of guy to kiss someone if he didn’t mean it, even if it was only on the cheek. Or at least, Davey wanted to think that. Sure, their study “dates” had been filled with light hearted banter which could be viewed as flirting, but Davey couldn’t be sure. Jack is an artist after all, it’s not THAT weird for Jack to compliment his eyes, and his freckles, and his smile, every time they see each other. Right? 

The duo were currently in the lounge of Jack’s apartment, with Jack’s roommate Spot out on a Tinder date of his own. Jack couldn’t remember the name of the other guy, but he thought that it started with an R. Various novels were spread out and circling the pillow he was sitting on, while his laptop was propped up on Spot’s uncomfortable stool, as it was the perfect height for Davey’s laptop while he was on the floor. Davey’s final exam for this semester’s literature course was an essay comparing common themes across several different texts, so he spent the vast majority of his time perched on Jack’s floor just flipping through the pages of all his books, desperately finding quotes to support possible essay questions. 

Jack was sketching away in his workbook, studying the way Davey tugged on his hair while searching for a particularly important quote, and how his hair stuck up after he had found it. He had a habit of picking at his nails while he was thinking, and Jack tried to get a vague outline of his hands before Davey relocated his train of thought. Then, the sound of gentle tapping filled the silence in the room, as Davey added to his spreadsheet of quotes and connections. It was a peaceful environment to study in. Since they weren’t taking the same courses, Davey could focus on learning rather than tutoring, which is what half of his study groups for journalism were. Nor did Jack feel forced to justify to his partner why he was choosing a particular style or a particular colour. He just just let the art happen, and justify later. 

They sat in the comfortable silence for hours, until Davey had practically exhausted all the major themes across the novels, and Jack had filled up several pages of brainstorming for his bigger and better drawing project of Davey. Having this extra time to study his muse certainly helped, and it didn’t hurt for Davey to have some company while he studied. However, the tranquility in the apartment was harshly broken when Jack’s phone went off. Both of the boys recognised the alert tone. It was a notification from Tinder.

Jack shot a quizzical look at this phone, before something clicked in his head. Davey watched on as Jack unlocked the phone and stared at it for a few seconds before letting out a laugh. He was presumably reading a message someone sent him. And typing out a reply. Why was he typing out a reply? Davey was right there! Why did he have a need to talk to other people when he already had Davey?

But he didn’t actually have Davey. They were nowhere near exclusive. Hell, they were nowhere even near dating. Davey clearly wasn’t as special to Jack as he thought he was, regardless of the kiss he gave him all those days ago. And the idea that Jack was interested in someone else, well, that made something inside him pang. Jealousy? Sadness? Hurt? Whatever it was, Davey didn’t want to feel it anymore.

Davey was jerked away from his thoughts when the phone sounded a second time, and Jack’s face spread into a smile. It was the same smile Jack had when he shook Davey’s hand outside the Starbucks when they first met, and Davey felt his heart drop. He knew this was stupid. They were nowhere near exclusive, they’d only been on one proper date! So why was he so hurt by Jack talking to other people, something that he was totally allowed to do? Davey’s head was reeling with thoughts, so much so that he didn’t see that Jack was packing up his art supplies, until he cleared his thought. 

“Hey, Davey?” Jack pushed himself up off his seat, sketchbook in his arms, pencil case awkwardly clutched in his hand. He was rocking back on his heels, looking intensely uncomfortable. Davey looked up to Jack, who was avoiding making eye contact with the boy on the floor. “I need to go meet someone for my drawing project, and I don’t want to give Spot a heart attack when he sees a stranger on our floor. So, uh, I guess we both need to leave.” Discomfort permeated Jack’s statement, it was obvious that he didn’t want to see like he was chucking Davey out of the apartment, but Davey did understand. He didn’t want his first meeting with this infamous Spot to be when he was studying alone in Spot’s apartment after presumably breaking in. 

Seeing a blush rising on Jack’s cheeks, it was obvious that Jack was embarrassed to be finishing one study “date” for a tinder date. Davey, despite his irrationally hurt feelings, wanted to put the artist out of his misery. He muttered something along the lines of, ‘yeah, sure, no problem’ while scooping up his books and study notes from the floor, while Jack apologised profusely for cutting their studying short.

Trying to act cool, Davey asked a question that he didn’t really want the answer to: “Who are you meeting?”

Jack looked down to his feet, scuffing the ground softly. “Her name is Katherine, and she’s a journalism student - hey!” Jack’s eyes suddenly snapped up to Davey’s and he smiled in realisation. “You’re a journalism student too! Maybe you know each other.”

Davey racked his brain, and couldn’t remember hearing the name Katherine in any of his classes, and it wasn’t like journalism was huge at his school. “I don’t think so, she’s probably not a freshman like me.” Jack nodded in agreement, stating that her profile did say that she’s 21, a couple of years older than both of the boys.

“She’s that kind of girl who’s classically beautiful, ya know? Long brown hair with a bit of a curl, big brown eyes, and if her profile’s anything to go by, she’s smart as hell. She’ll be gorgeous to draw” A grin laced Jack’s sentence, and Davey was trying to convince himself that he was happy for Jack. And he was. He was happy that he was enjoying meeting people for his project, and that he was passionate about his art. He just wished he could ignore the nagging feelings at his gut. Jack was the first guy Davey had ever really liked, and the first guy that he probably had a shot with. And he could feel that shot slipping through his fingers with every notification coming in on Jack’s phone. But he nodded along to what he was saying, feigning being excited for him. 

Davey busied himself by shoving his study materials into his backpack to take home, and Jack stuffed a bag with his sketchbook and pencil case into a satchel to take to his “date” with Katherine. After flicking off the light, he and Davey headed out the door, and locking it behind them. They both said their goodbyes and headed off in their opposite ways: Davey heading towards his apartment, and Jack in the direction of the library, presumably where he was going to meet his newest muse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated, I read your comments repetitively because I never can believe that people like this enough to tell me their thoughts! and I promise it will get happy again from here!


	8. Vent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm so incredibly sorry that this took so long. But it's here now, and I hope you can forgive me! Now that I'm back home I'm hoping that I can get this whole story finished in the next couple of weeks!  
> I hope you enjoy :)

 

A thin slither of light was escaping under the door to Crutchie’s room as Davey came back to the apartment. He unceremoniously slammed the front door shut and threw his bag beside the lumpy couch in the living room. Upon hearing the loud bang, Crutchie turned down the volume of the movie he was watching and yelled out, “Dave, is that you?”

He received a reluctant grunt in response, something out of sorts for Davey. Closing the lid of his laptop, Crutchie swung his legs out of his pile of blankets, grabbing his crutches from where they were leaning against his desk, and made his way out to the living room. He could see the mess of Davey’s black hair sticking up over the couch cushion, accompanied by some soft sniffling sounds. He grabbed the box of tissues sitting on the dining table and shoved them under his armpit, before walking over to and flopping onto the spare spot of the couch.

“How’re ya feeling, buddy?” Crutchie asked, even if he already knew the answer. Davey was swiping at his bloodshot eyes, one knee hugged into his chest, and generally looking pretty miserable. He gently lay his crutches down on the ground and placed the box of tissues between the two of them on the couch, after poking Davey in the side with the box so he knew they were there. Davey let out a couple more sniffles before grabbing for a tissue to blow his nose.

Crutchie leaned into Davey’s side, placing his head on the taller boy’s shoulder. He looked up at Davey’s reddened face and slightly puffy eyes - it wasn’t often that his best friend cried, so he knew it had to be something pretty bad. It was unlikely to be anything about school because they hadn’t had any assignment grades released today, so it had to be something personal. “Is your family okay, Dave?,” he asked softly.

“They’re fine. Well, as fine as they can be alone with Les,” Davey huffed out, a hint of amusement in his voice. He took a deep breath and stared down at his hands. The tight fists he was holding relaxed, showing red crescent moons on his palms. Exhaling loudly, he muttered a singular word under his breath - “Jack.”

Lifting his head up in surprise, Crutchie looked at the side of Davey’s head as the boy in question kept looking down. “Jack?! What did he do? Ya’know, to leave you, like…” He motioned awkwardly up and down, in reference to Davey’s current appearance.

“Like what? Looking like an idiot crying over a boy?!” In a moment of self-deprecation, Davey laughed a little before hanging his head in his hands. “Because that’s what I’m doing,” he groaned, muffled into his hands. As he reached for another tissue, Crutchie interrupted by placing his hand on top of Davey’s, and asking again.

“What happened?”

Davey rocked back, collapsing into the couch cushions and throwing his head back to stare at the ceiling. He whined out, “Oh god, it’s so stupid,” before rubbing the heel of his hands into his eyes. “So, what happened is that Jack asked me over for a study date - don’t look at me like that Crutch, that’s all it was - and it was going fine, until he got a message from this girl, Katherine…” Davey spat out the name like bile, taking an instant dislike for how it tasted in on his tongue. “She was some random chick signing up for his art project on tinder, and he had to go meet up, so he kicked me out of his apartment to go see her. And now… I’m here. Brooding.” He kept his gaze locked on the ceiling, and jumped a little when Crutchie rested his head once again on Davey’s shoulder.

“That really sucks that he’d kick you out like that Davey-“ Crutchie attempted to empathise with his friend, but was quickly cut off.

Davey scoffed, trying not to laugh at Crutchie completely missing the point. “It’s not that, I’m kind of glad we left. I still haven’t met his roommate, and from what I’ve heard, I’m kind of scared to. It’s that he could leave me so easily, and for a random girl? Do I really mean that little to him?” He sighed, utterly dejected. Davey thumped his head against the back of the couch before Crutchie intervened, tutting gently and petting Davey’s arm to distract him from the deliberate killing of brain cells.

“Of course he cares for you, that’s not in question - I see how much you hang out!” A playful punch was landed on Davey’s arm, a yelp and a hint of amusement coming from the afflicted boy. “But you kinda should’ve seen this coming.”

Davey pushed Crutchie off him sharply, a look of incredulous shock on his face. “I’m sorry, what?!” he shouted. “I should’ve seen this coming? What are you saying?! That just because he’s bisexual he’d ditch me for the next hot chick he saw?! That the past few weeks meant so little to him that he left as soon as he got a better offer?!” As Davey’s voice rose in volume, Crutchie was shaking his head in frustration. He had to resort to waving his hands angrily in front of Davey’s face to grab his attention.

“Dude! That’s not what I meant!” He could see Davey about to speak up in protest but had to cut him off, “No, let me finish. I meant, that you signed up to be a part of an art project. You hit it off with the artist too, which is great! But he hasn’t finished the project, so of course he’ll be doing sittings with other people for his drawings. You should’ve known that he’d contact more people.”

As Crutchie talked, Davey visibly withered. Of course. He was so purely focused on the dating part that he completely forgot why they connected in the first place. Jack is an artist, he had to put his art first. But Davey, as per usual, jumped to the defensive and overreacted to something quite simple.

“I just don’t get why you’re so angry about it Dave.” There was a long stretch of silence after Crutchie spoke in which Davey hung his head and began picking at his nails. Wanting to get to the bottom of it, Crutchie softly held on of Davey’s hands in his own in order to refocus his friend. “Davey, why are you angry about this?”

Davey mumbled something under his breath, and although he couldn’t hear it, Crutchie could still sense the irritation in his voice.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear what -“

“He kissed me, okay?!” Davey burst out, throwing down Crutchie’s hand. His roommate’s face changed from an expression of confusion to elation - to Crutchie, this was amazing news! Letting out all the built up energy from that secret, Davey explained further. “A couple of weeks ago, after my sitting, Jack kissed me… I mean, only on the cheek, but still. I thought that meant something.”

“That totally means something!” Crutchie was practically bouncing from excitement, and Davey couldn’t help but let out a little groan. Why did he pick such an overexcitable best friend? “He has to like you Davey I’m sure of it. Have you told him that you like him?”

All the noise in Davey’s brain screeched to a halt at that. No no no, there was no way he could tell Jack that he liked him. That he really really liked him. “What? Pfft, no! Of course I haven’t!” Davey tried to play it off with nonchalance, but an audible hitch in his voice at the end of the sentence gave his nerves away.

“But you’re going to, right?” Crutchie was staring up at Davey with such excitement in his wide open eyes. God, could he be any more of a hopeless romantic? “He kissed you Dave, that’s amazing! You have to tell him you feel the same way!”

Just the simple idea of confessing his feelings made Davey’s heart rate go through the roof. There was no way he could do that. Jack was his first serious crush and he had no clue as to what he should do. But he wanted to avoid this gross nervousness as much as possible. He shifted his gaze back to Crutchie, still looking at him with awe. He just needed some time to process everything. Alone.

Despite the smidgen of sympathy that Crutchie had given him, he also received a much needed metaphorical kick in the ass. Davey knew that he should tell Jack how he felt, but at this point in time, he really didn’t want to. This was all completely new and he was terrified. He wanted to take his mind off of everything that has happened, and he knew just the people to talk to.

“Crutchie, ya know, it’s a Friday night and it’s getting late. I gotta go call my parents for Shabbat… I’ll see you in the morning.” He pushed himself up off the couch, grabbed his bag and retreated to his bedroom.

Calling out a distant, “Good night,” from the couch, Crutchie couldn’t quite believe the emotional whiplash they went through in the past few minutes. First Davey was sad, then angry, then some kind of mixture of nervous and aloof. He didn’t even seem overly thrilled at the idea of kissing Jack, even if Crutchie was overjoyed for him. Maybe Davey’s feelings for Jack were messier than he originally thought.

* * *

Davey reached into the front pocket of his bag, searching for his phone. He yanked it out once he found it, zipping up his bag and placing it beside his desk. Trudging over to his bed to get comfy for the phone call (his mom could talk for hours during their Shabbat catch-ups, and he wasn’t prepared to do that without a blanket to cozy into), he flicked through his notifications. He found a text that came in 12 minutes ago from Les, telling him that they were ready for him to call home, a few Facebook tags from Crutchie, but another message caught his eye.

 

_Jack Kelly_   
_36 minutes ago_

Hey Davey, I’m sorry for what happened tonight. Can I make it up to you with Starbucks tomorrow? 10am?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are all welcome! Trust me, if I learn that I get reinforcement for churning out a new chapter, I'll do it far more often! (It's a thing, I had to write an assignment on it displayed in pigeon behaviour)


	9. Apology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow what, 2 chapters in one week? Thank god my university workload isn't too stressful at the moment!  
> Anyway, onwards!

The soft whoosh of the opening automatic door invited Davey into a coffee scented haven. He stepped through and allowed the door to close behind him, as he spotted Jack sitting at their regular table. Taking a deep breath to steel his nerves, he headed over to the vacant chair and the cup with “Davey” scrawled across it. Jack put down the cup he was taking a sip from as Davey walked over, and stood to greet him.

“Dave, hey.” The boys stood in front of each other for a second too long, awkwardness thick in the air. Until Jack pulled Davey in for a half-hearted one armed hug and a trademark Jack Kelly smile. Davey allowed a hint of a smile dance across his lips before dropping into the seat with Jack following suit.

“I’m assuming there’s no coffee in this?” Davey asked, gesturing towards the drink that was presumably his.

Shaking his head in reply, Jack noted, “none at all, it is pure hot chocolatey goodness.” He had no idea how he could have a crush on a guy who avoids coffee like the plague, but here he was; buying hot chocolates and paying extra for marshmallow syrup when said crush wasn’t paying attention.

“Flick me a text with your bank details, I’ll pay you back.” Davey took a sip from the cup and gulped it down, the warmth spreading through his chest felt like true bliss.

“I will not do that because this is my treat,” Jack said indignantly, and when Davey looked ready to protest Jack cut him off by asserting that it was no big deal. Davey huffed and looked down at his drink, not pushing it any further. “But one thing that I owe you Dave, is an apology. It was rude of me to make you leave yesterday after I was the one that invited you over. It was a real dick move and I hope you can forgive me for that.”

Davey looked up from the various scrawls on his coffee cup to see the honesty and vulnerability in Jack’s eyes. It was the first time that Jack had truly worn his heart on his sleeve around Davey, and he hoped that he could see more of this side of the artist.

“Of course I forgive you Jack. I just hope Katherine was worth ditching me for!” Davey leaned over the table to give Jack’s shoulder a playful shove, eliciting laughter from the pair.

“Yeah yeah, she was actually pretty cool,” Davey tried to ignore the squeezing feeling in his chest as Jack talked, focusing instead on the reassurance that Crutchie gave him last night . “We were chatting about her overbearing parents, and how she moved out to college to get away from them. She even told me about this girl she has her eye on in her art history class… get this, she’s had a crush on her since the first week right, and she saw this mystery girl on tinder, but swiped left because she was too scared! What an idiot, right?!”

Davey couldn’t ignore the sigh of relief he let out under his breath - Katherine wasn’t interested in Jack at all, there was no need to get so upset. Well, that’s always easier to see in hindsight, and Davey knew he had a penchant for overreacting. He mumbled an agreement to Katherine’s foolishness, and both boys took swigs from their drinks.

“So Jack,” Davey started, placing down his cup and leaning back to into his chair, “anyone else I should know about?” He cocked an eyebrow, trying to toe the line between playful and flirty - but going by Jack’s snort into his cup, he failed miserably.

“Not at the moment Davey, but there is this one really cute guy who I buy hot chocolates for on occasion, and sometimes I manage to sneak marshmallow into them when he’s not looking…” A grin split across Jack’s face as a look of shocked disbelief graced Davey’s. A moment ago a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth hearing Jack’s confession that he wasn’t seeing anyone else, but it quickly morphed into a caricature of what a shocked southern belle would look like.

“I knew it!” Davey punctuated his sentence by slapping his hand on the table, “I knew I could taste marshmallow in here, you scoundrel!”

 

* * *

 

The week after Jack’s apology was the final week of classes for the academic year, and the idea of summer stretching out in front of duo was far too enticing. Except for Davey’s final exams and Jack’s final presentations. Davey spent this final week in a blind panic about handing in his final assignments, scribbling down every single exam hint his teachers gave him in class, and doubting that he had even learnt the material he had spent weeks writing study notes for. Jack, on the other hand, spent the week locked in his room painting, drawing, and interpretative dancing his way into being a food and sleep deprived mess.

They were only saved by their occasional catch ups to keep them sane. Running into each other as they crossed campus to go to classes, Davey walking Jack home on Tuesday because, ‘it’s only a 10 minute walk away, and I need the exercise ( _and to spend time with you_ )’, and in the library’s group study space on Friday afternoon, when they had officially finished classes for the year.

Breathing a sigh of relief as they flopped down into their seats, the boys looked at each other with disbelief.

“We’re done! I can’t quite believe it.” Davey huffed in response to Jack’s incredulous statement of finality.

“No, you’re done. I still have four exams. Not all of us are be fine arts students who can chuck paper into a bin for five minutes as a final assessment for a dance class - it didn’t even have any dancing!” The journalism student was still reeling from Jack’s news that he got an A- on his Dance and Interdisciplinarity assignment, which was just a glorified public version of taking the trash out.

“That’s the beauty of interdisciplinarity Dave, I made a blanket statement about how we’re taught that wasting paper is wrong, so I ripped up a whole text book and chucked it in the recycling bin piece by piece - the oxymoron of modern education, as my teacher put it. He loved it!” Davey groaned and hit his head on the table. How he was struggling through his assignments comparing American and British journalism, barely scraping a B, and Jack was doing this bullshit and pulling easy As was beyond him. Was it too late to change his major?

A lightbulb went off in Davey’s head about how he could change this infuriating topic, and he followed it. “Hey, I’ve been noticing a lot more paint on you in the past week or so. I didn’t think you were taking a painting course this semester?”

Jack entered panic stations - he had finally finished painting his drawing of Davey onto a canvas for his final project, but he obviously couldn’t let said subject know that. He mumbled out some excuse about needing to paint to take away from the stress of his drawing project. Davey had seen all his little paintings scattered around his apartment, and Jack hoped that he bought the lame excuse. He did, but of course he started asking about it in true Davey fashion.

“Have you seen anyone else for it since the weekend?” Davey’s eyes were cast downwards - even though the duo had talked about Jack ditching him for Katherine, he was still a little insecure about it. Or maybe embarrassed for the way he acted? Either way, he didn’t look like he truly wanted to be talking to Jack about it.

“Nah, not really. There was this guy I briefly met and did a tiny little sketch of, but since we’re displaying them tomorrow, I didn’t really have time to do any other drawings after Katherine.”

“Wait, you’re being assessed _tomorrow_?! And I haven’t even seen mine yet?!” Davey appeared to be genuinely shocked, thinking that he’d at least be able to see how he was being presented to the world; he did tell Jack some very personal things, after all.

Jack rubbed awkwardly at the nape of his neck, feeling like a young child being chastised for not telling his mother about a permission slip that had to be signed for the following day. “I mean, you’re not alone - nobody is seeing theirs until tomorrow, and I’ve invited all my subjects to come to the showing.” Knowing that the next thing Davey was going to say was that he hadn’t been invited, Jack continued. “And before you say anything, I didn’t invite you because I don’t want you to be just another subject, Davey. I, well I….”

Jack’s voice trailed off into space as psyched himself up to actually say what he had been planning this whole week.

“Dave, I want you to be my date.”

Davey’s eyes widened in surprise, he really didn’t expect Jack to ask him that, at all. But knowing Jack, he tried to keep it lighthearted.

“You mean like a study date? Or like an actual-“

“An actual date-date, Dave.” The artist visibly cringed at the accidental alliteration, but the sincerity of his voice cut through it all. Davey couldn’t help but feel his heart speed up at the idea - their first non-coffee or “study” date; but a date in its own right.

His head started nodding before he managed to murmur out, “yeah, okay, that… that sounds great.” Jack’s damned infectious smile spread between the two of them - Davey even let out a little giggle that he will vehemently deny doing until his grave.

“The student gallery at the fine art school opens at 7:30, and everyone’s been asked to get there at 7.” Jack started fishing around in his bag, and brandished a piece of paper towards Davey, which he grabbed. “The dress code is smart casual, and all the info listed on this invite here. But since this is a date, I’ll pick you up at 5 and we’ll go for dinner before heading to the gallery, does that work for you?”

If this is what true happiness felt like, Davey couldn’t be more thrilled. Here he was, being asked out on a date by the guy he had a huge crush on - he couldn’t believe it! Jack had changed so much for him, he no longer sat cooped up at how with Crutchie, doing nothing but studying and watching documentaries. He was going out to an art gallery to see a drawing of himself and other fascinating people, all thanks to a simple right swipe. On his way home he was going to pick up Crutchie’s favourite snacks and wine to thank him for pushing him into this incredible situation that he didn’t have the balls to do himself. Thank god (and Crutchie) for tinder.

“That works perfectly, Jack. I can’t wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me writing about summer holidays when university hasn't even been back for 2 weeks? I'm not shocked at all.  
> I can't believe we're nearly at the end, the last chapter is going to be a real doozy!
> 
> To everyone who stuck with me since the beginning or who has just joined now, thank you for the kudos and the comments, every single one of them has brightened my day. It's made me so happy that people have enjoyed this silly little idea I dreamt up while zoned out in my learning and behaviour class.  
> I'll catch ya on the next one!


	10. Gallery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end. I honestly don't know how to feel about this. This is the first fan fic that I've written all the way to the conclusion, and it's kind of like my baby. I've gotten so attached to my guys that it kinda sucks to know that it's over. For now, at least!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the final instalment of this silly idea I had one day while daydreaming and got completely out of hand!

A yell of his name alerted Crutchie to Davey needing help. His roommate had been calling out for him all afternoon for varying reasons, and as much as he loved Davey, he was starting to get annoying. He let the fork that he was drying drop down into the sink with a faint plop, drying his hands on the dish towel. Grabbing the crutches propped up to the sink, he headed towards Davey’s room, yelling out a confirmation that he was on his way.

He didn’t expect the sight he was greeted with in Davey’s room, but he couldn’t say he was surprised. Davey was sitting on the floor, surrounded by various shirts and jeans and shoes, radiating an air of confusion and panic. He could hear Crutchie stifling a laugh from the doorway, and whipped his head around to see his friend.

“Crutch, you gotta help me,” he pleaded, scrambling for the invitation laid out on his bed. “The dress code says ‘smart casual’ - what does that even mean?!” Crutchie couldn’t blame the guy, this was his first important date and was stressed out enough about that. Throw in the fact that it was an incredibly public date and there would be teachers there judging and assessing his face (well, Jack’s representation of his face), Crutchie was surprised that he wasn’t more nervous.

Navigating around the slew of clothing on the floor, Crutchie headed over to the bed, and made a spot for himself. From here he could direct Davey, while being out of the way of the fabric bombsite. “It means dressy, but not a suit and no sneakers. Get that nice pair of dark jeans you got a couple of months ago and pair it with a dress shirt.” He watched on as Davey sorted through the pile of trousers that had formed on his desk chair until he found the jeans in question, and placed them next to Crutchie. “See, that was easy! Now, pick a dress shirt.”

“I think that may be easier said than done, Crutch,” he said, as he swept his hand around the room. The shirt seemed to be what Davey was stuck with in the first place - he had one on practically every surface of his room.

“What one do you like the most, the one you feel the most comfortable in?” Crutchie could see Davey’s eyes immediately jump to a shirt still in his closet, but after a moment’s hesitation, he turned his attention back to two shirts hanging off his bedroom door. One was a plain pale blue shirt, the other a dark crimson red.

“I’ve been staring at both of these for half an hour and I can’t decide between-“

“I don’t care about them,” Crutchie cut him off, about to give Davey a much needed push. “Get out that shirt in your closet. The one you looked at straight away.”

Davey grumbled a little, a slight pink dusting his cheeks at being caught out, but diligently pulled the shirt out by its hanger. “It was a joke Hanukkah gift from Les-“

“It’s perfect, Davey!” Crutchie clapped a little out of excitement, he had never seen Davey wear this shirt before, and it was just so _Davey_. A black shirt with a pink floral print, featuring green and brown rattlesnakes weaving between the flowers. Crutchie told him to pair it with a pair of black boots and he was set to go. The fashion advisor was quickly shooed from the room to allow Davey to change, and was waiting out in the living room for Davey to show him the final product.

A few minutes later, Davey’s door creaked open and he slipped out into the living room, smiling shyly at the floor. Letting out a low whistle, Crutchie assured Davey that he looked as good as he must’ve felt in his outfit, even making the blushing guy do a twirl for good measure. For the first time in college, Davey was radiating confidence, and it made him so proud to be able to see how much his best friend had grown over the past few weeks with Jack. He sent Davey into the bathroom do his hair - they spent an hour together this afternoon watching hair tutorials, so if Davey yelled out for help this time, Crutchie was sure to throttle him. Occasionally the odd profanity was muttered from the bathroom but he exited after a while looking a lot tidier with his hair pulled back from his eyes, and a lot more nervous. He flopped onto the couch next to Crutchie, and watched some mindless afternoon television to avoid thinking about the upcoming date.

Despite it being 4:45, Davey constantly checked his watch, counting down the 15 minutes until Jack was due. At 4:50 he was up and pacing, double and triple checking he had his wallet, keys, and phone on him. At 4:55, Crutchie ordered him to sit down and chill out - they were both being driven crazy with Davey’s panicking. Crutchie turned the television off, and the pair sat in an uncomfortable silence permeated with only the sound of Davey’s bouncing leg, until a knock was heard against the door frame.

Davey practically jumped out of his skin as he sprinted to the door, skidding to a stop and yanking it open as fast as possible. Jack stood behind it, slightly shocked at Davey’s abruptness. But the shocked expression quickly melted into Jack looking stunned after taking in Davey’s appearance. He was drinking in the way the soft flowers brought out a hardness in his jaw, how the slim fit of his jeans clung to his legs, and the tiny amount of added height he got from the boots. Jack was in way too deep with this one. After a few beats of silence, Jack managed to choke out a short sentence.

“Wow, Davey, you look… incredible.”

Jack’s words made Davey smile, and he struggled to form a sentence of his own. “You look, uh, pretty... handsome. Pretty handsome, not like, yeah…” He could hear the words coming out of his mouth but seemed to lose all control of them halfway, opting instead to take in the view of Jack in a light blue shirt rolled up to his elbows, black chinos, and his favourite Doc Martens - which had been polished to hide all the scuffs on them. Jack somehow looked even better than Davey had expected, and he didn’t know how that was possible.

A few more moments of silence passed between them, before a voice from the couch could be heard calling out to them. “Alright lovebirds, get a move on. You don’t want to be late!”

Jack made way for Davey as he stepped through the door, going to close it behind them as he yelled out with a hint of irritability, “thanks mom!” A vague call of ‘use protection!’ could be heard as the door closed, both boys opting to just ignore it. As they started heading out of the apartment complex, Davey turned to Jack and apologised. “I’m sorry about him, I love him to pieces but he can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”

Jack snorted a little, mumbling out, “are you talking about your room mate or me?”

“Definitely my roommate,” Davey’s affirmation was lilted with a laugh. “I’ve been friends with him since high school. But maybe after I’ve known you for 5 years I can say the same thing about you!” He nudged his shoulder with Jack’s as the duo laughed, the idea of spending years together hovering in the air between them as they walked. “But he’s a good guy, maybe you can meet him one day.”

Looking over at his date, there was a glint of of something in Jack’s eyes that he couldn’t quite identify. “Yeah Dave, maybe I can.”

 

* * *

 

Jack was leading them down to the restaurant area of the city - since they studied on the main city campus, it was only a few streets away from the central business district and all its delicious restaurants. Davey was idly nattering away about piece he had prepared for his journalism exam about the student housing market as he was pulled to a stop by Jack. They were standing outside a bright little restaurant with retro style vinyl booths and a jukebox tucked in by the door. The neon light in the window read ‘Burgers’, as did the sign above the door.

“We’re here!” Jack exclaimed as he opened the door for Davey. Now, he wasn’t expecting a 5 star restaurant, but maybe something a little bit fancier than a burger place for a first date? But Davey did have to admit, it was _very_ Jack. The sound of The Supremes floated out of the jukebox as Davey stepped foot into the diner. It was a bit of an assault on the senses - bright blue walls with red and white booths and seats, the mixture of music and sizzling fries filling his ears, and the unmistakable smell of burgers on a grill. Jack placed a hand on Davey’s back as he walked ahead of him, which snuck around to hold Davey’s waist as Jack asked for his reservation. Davey could feel his brain short circuiting as the waiter guided them towards the booth in the back, but was thankful to get his thoughts back as they sat on seperate sides of the booth.

The waiter placed the menus in front of them, and hurried off to collect the food for another table. Skimming the menu, Davey only noticed one thing. “They sure do have a lot of burgers here. I didn’t even know there were this many kinds of burgers…” Beef, chicken, pork, venison, fish, vegetarian, vegan, not to mention the sides, desserts, and drinks.

“I know, that’s why I love it! I made it my mission to eat through the whole menu when I first arrived in town. It took half a year, but I did it!” Jack smiled proudly at Davey, and Davey was unsure if that was something that someone should really be proud about. But here he was anyway, on a date with a giant nerd who loved burgers. And he found himself thinking that he wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.

“Do you have any recommendations?” Jack’s eyes lit up at the question, quickly naming his favourites - the buffalo chicken, the pulled pork burger, and surprisingly the vegan supreme. After a couple of minutes of silent deliberation, Davey decided on the vegan supreme and Jack’s choice was the Nemo -Davey asserting that it was an awful name for a first burger, and Jack arguing that he was going to order two, purely out of spite.  
  
As their giggles over the burger names died down, they were able to place their order. Thankfully Jack only ordered one burger, but he did also order a chocolate milkshake for them to share, insisting on having two straws.

“Are you seriously insisting on making us a walking cliché from every high school movie ever?” Davey scoffed as the waiter left them to give their order to the kitchen.

“Yes I am. I know you didn’t really date in high school, so I am making it up to you now. You can thank me later,” Jack finished his sentence with a wink, making Davey blush involuntarily and roll his eyes.

“You are impossible, you know that right?” All Jack did in reply was shrug his shoulders and smile broadly at his exasperated date. Of course he know that.

They shared small talk while waiting for their food to arrive, mainly chatting about the exhibition that they were about to go to. Essentially, the class’ project brief was to create a piece exploring the human condition - some people decided to do room studies and draw the interesting things they found in bedrooms of people they knew, one student drew all the things he put in the trash over a month, but the one Davey was most excited to see - other than Jack’s of course - was the student who snuck into social psychology lectures and illustrated the experiments that the class studied. Jack refused to say anything about his own project, preferring for Davey to see it for himself and let Jack explain it in the moment, something that was frustrating Davey to no end.

As time seemingly slipped by, the full plates and milkshake glass - with two straws - were placed in front of them. Davey went in for a sip of the milkshake, but Jack yelped and made Davey stop. He had a hand deep in his pocket, fishing around for something. “Hang on a sec’, Dave… got it!” He brandished his phone in front of Davey’s face, and told him then he could now take a sip. He was little confused by his date’s actions until he saw Jack turn on the front-facing camera on his phone and captured his own straw between his teeth - Jack wanted a selfie of the two of them and their shared chocolate milkshake.

Davey couldn’t help but groan, and mutter, “you are really making a cliché out of this, Jackie.” Nevertheless, Davey obliged and posed for the selfie, taking a quick taste of the milkshake, which was divine - he understood why Jack came here so often now.

While he was drinking, Jack caused Davey to choke by asking, “Did you just call me Jackie?” He tried to duck his head away from Jack’s gaze out of embarrassment, uttering a small confirmation under his breath. “Because it was really cute, Davey.” The poor guy was ready to combust out of embarrassment and overwhelming happiness that his crush just called him, or at least an accidental nickname, cute. If he looked up, he would’ve been able to see the pure adoration in Jack’s eyes, but he chose instead to pick up his burger and take a bite.

And he was surprised. Typically, vegan meals are as close to kosher as he can get in a typical restaurant, but the vegan burgers he’s had before haven’t been _this_ good. No wonder a happy meat eater like Jack recommended it! He groaned in appreciation as he chewed, managing something that sounded like, “this is incredible,” before swallowing. “Thank you for the recommendation,” he said with a heavy dose of appreciation.

Jack swallowed his bite before replying with a flirty brag, “What can I say, I’ve got incredible taste,” a threw a wink Davey’s way.

He was sure that he would be dead by the end of this date by the amount of times Jack made his heart skip a beat. Or at least, his face would be stained red for eternity.

 

* * *

 

Like a true gentleman, Jack paid for both himself and Davey, despite Davey’s protests. As Davey was watching him pay, he noticed a a smudge of sauce on his chin. He tried to tell Jack this as they were heading back outside, but they couldn’t quite hear each other as they walked past the blaring jukebox. Davey decided to simply cut out the middle man, swiping a thumb against his chin. Both boys stilled at the contact between them, hovering in the open doorway - Davey on the outside of the restaurant and Jack on the inside. That feeling Davey got when Jack touched his hand weeks ago was back, and it was as intoxicating then as it is now.

Davey felt his mouth go dry as he tried to explain, “you had, uh, a bit of sauce, on your chin…” His hand was still there, cupping Jack’s chin. He really didn’t want to move it, but the shock still wasn’t budging from Jack’s face. “See?” he asked, a little overeager at his excuse, showing the red blob on his thumb to Jack.

Smiling and holding onto Davey’s thumb, all Jack could say was the first thing that came to mind - “You’re an angel, Dave.” Acutely aware of the customers grumbling behind him about the door being open, he stepped towards Davey and allowed the door to swing closed behind him. He took his proximity to Davey into his advantage too, and licked the dried sauce off Davey’s thumb, eliciting a shriek from his date.

“Jack! That’s disgusting!” Davey grimaced, but at least the awkward tension was broken.

“Quit your whining, I was saving it for later! Now come on, we don’t want to be late.” Jack could see Davey wipe his hand against his jeans as they started to head towards the gallery. He didn’t look too pissed off, but actually rather amused. Jack was glad about that, he definitely didn’t want to agitate Davey, especially since they were about to go see a project in which he was a pretty big part.

They mostly walked in silence, Jack was preoccupied with an uncomfortable nervous feeling settling in his stomach. He was suddenly doubting his choice to pull out all the stops for Davey. His teacher told him that it was a great idea and showed great ‘artistic vision’, as he put it. And as a piece of art, it was good. But when Davey was staring back at his own face as an oil painting? Maybe not such a brilliant idea. But all Jack could do is wait and see his reaction - and the anticipation was killing him.

Beside him, Davey could practically hear the cogs turning in Jack’s head. And he understood. He felt the same way before going into exams, and this was an exam of sorts for Jack. He’d normally just plug some headphones in and tune out the world, but Jack could hardly do that while he was walking with him. So he did what he would want Jack to do if he was walking to an exam - Davey took Jack’s hand. It was a little dry from scrubbing all the little paint flecks off them, but Davey had no complaints. It was Jack.

And it was Jack who slowed down a little as he felt Davey’s hand intertwine with his own. Both boys looked down at their linked hands with a soft smile on their faces, and he could hear exactly what Davey was trying to say with the little gesture. _I’m here. Don’t worry._ The electric feeling at their point of contact died down to a soft buzz as they kept walking, and was doing more to comfort Jack in this moment than Davey would ever understand. He softly caressed him thumb across Davey’s as a silent _thank you_ , and out of the corner of his eye he saw a wider smile grace his date’s face. God, what he wouldn’t do to keep Davey’s smile there forever.

As they neared the student gallery, Jack dropped Davey’s hand and turned towards him, smoothing out his shirt. “Do I look alright?”

 _You look perfect, handsome, like a dream come true_ , Davey wanted to say. “Of course you do, stop worrying,” he settled for, as he helped Jack readjust the collar of his shirt. He dropped his hand to Jack’s bicep, and gave it a gentle squeeze that he hoped was comforting. “Now go in there and knock ‘em dead.”

Jack took a deep breath, and took a moment to appreciate the sweet boy that this crazy project helped him to find. With Davey following behind him, Jack turned on his heel, walking to the door and holding it open for Davey. Heads inside turned to see who was entering, a few students raising a hand to wave at Jack, who was right behind Davey. A deep voice to the right of them asked if they wanted a beer or a glass of wine, and Davey turned to face the stranger. He was an older man, probably not a student, and wore very round, very statement-looking glasses. Davey politely refused the drink, and then man moved his gaze to Jack.

“Can I grab his one then, Specs? If he’s not gonna have it?” The older man, Specs, Davey presumed, let out a chuckle at that.

“Sure thing Jack, just make sure Davey holds it for you. It’s a strict ‘one drink per person’ tonight.” Jack grabbed two glasses of white wine, and handed one to Davey. Jack whisked Davey away from the drinks table, and answered an unasked question that he knew Davey had.

“Specs is the coordinator slash teacher of this course. His real name is Spencer, but we just call him Specs, it’s easier.” Davey just nodded and looked down at his wine. That was one question he had, but not the most pertinent one.

“But how did he know my name?”

“I, uh, well…” Jack stammered. It was an easy explanation of course, so why was he nervous? Probably because he didn’t want to give away the fact that he had to spend hours with Specs discussing the painting his was doing of Davey, and of only Davey. “I obviously drew you for this whole thing, and he must’ve recognised you from my drawing. And I obviously named the drawing after you.”

As the students and their guests mingled in the foyer, waiting for the last people to arrive, Davey was introduced to a few of the other students in Jack’s class. They had some strange names, like Finch and Jojo and Romeo, and even weirder nicknames, like Mush and Buttons. But then again, he lived with a guy named Crutchie, so he wasn’t really one to judge. At least with such different names, Davey was sure that he’d remember them.

Slowly the din in the room quietened, thanks in part to Specs hitting an empty beer bottle with a spoon he must have found. “Hi everyone, welcome to all the students here tonight showcasing their work, and to their friends and family that have come to support them. I’ll keep it brief since I’m sure you all want to see the art, but for those of you who don’t know me, I’m Spencer - although you may hear the students call me Specs - and I run this course every year. It is centred around drawing, but you will see some artistic license being taken with that brief as you walk around. I have a note here from Finch that you’re welcome to pick up paper from the pile slash sculpture - and I use that word very loosely - that he created, as there are drawings on every page.”

Jack nudged Davey and whispered, “That’s the one with all the drawings of the rubbish.” Davey just let out a soft ‘oh’, as he tried to keep listening to Specs’ speech and ignoring the warm breath that was ticking his neck when Jack spoke.

“… Some artists posed as students from other classes - “

“Romeo and social psychology,” Jack clarified.

“… And some went above and beyond the brief,” Davey noticed a rather poignant glance that Specs shot Jack on that statement, to which Jack just tipped his head back and downed the rest of his wine. What the hell did _that_ mean?

“And you can see all of that for yourselves. Happy viewing, everyone!” Specs stood aside and pushed open the gallery door to a round of applause from all present, which Jack took as his cue to exchange glasses with Davey. His previous one didn’t last long at all, hopefully it helped calm him down enough that this glass would last the rest of the night.

As they stepped through, The were immediately greeted with Jojo’s piece on the life of a student. She’d copied every form she had to fill out in order to apply for tertiary study, and her loans, also including a bunch of receipts from the local art supply store, and drew one thing on one piece of paper every day - varying between conversations she had overheard on campus to a gorgeous bird that frequented the window frame of the class’ studio space. The explanation she gave on a board next to the drawings stated that although studying comes with a huge financial burden for a privilege that’s seen as compulsory by many, the beauty in the opportunity is often overlooked because of it. Her work had seemed to grab a big enough crowd for the meantime, even explaining some of the finer nuances to those who wanted to listen. Davey and Jack kept moving though, Davey desperately trying to find Jack’s section, and Jack desperately trying to fight the nerves of Davey finding his section.

But Jack’s nerves were relieved for a moment when they found Romeo’s artwork. Davey had always found social psychology interesting, why people did he things they did. That’s why he studied journalism, so he could recount tales of people to a wider public, without all the science-y stuff that psychology required. He found himself particularly enraptured with a rather gory picture of the famous murder of Kitty Genovese. Over 30 people heard her murder taking place, and no one did anything about it - one of the great tragedies of social psychology’s research. So incredibly engrossed, Davey didn’t even notice the shutter clicks coming from behind him as Jack took photos of him. He looked so damned cute with the inquisitive look that would grace his features whenever he was studying or learning something knew, and Jack could never permanently capture it. Until now. As Davey was chatting Romeo’s ear off, Jack had time to finish his next glass of wine and set it on a table in the corner. Davey could’ve talked to Romeo about his time in social psychology until they got kicked out of the gallery, but that was not why he was here. He was here to support Jack, and after passing on his admiration and congratulations to Romeo, Jack swept Davey off to the next collection.

They slowly wandered around, taking in and discussing the art, until the pair turned a corner and saw Jack’s name and his explanation board. Jack could practically feel his heart jump into his throat as he searched for Davey’s hand again. He found it, and after a chuckle from Davey, he was told, “loosen your grip, Jack. You don’t want to strangle my hand.” And thankfully for Davey’s circulation, he did.

Jack’s project consisted of 9 drawings, 6 in the first section and the other 3 placed on the walls around a dead-end corner. Davey started walking forward to check out the first drawing on the left, ignoring those on the right wall - they could come back to them after they went around the corner. It was all in greyscale, except for the bottom right hand corner coloured with reds and oranges and yellows - the actual corner was even burnt off. As he scanned the rest of the drawing it seemed eerily familiar, until he checked out the name plaque underneath, which simply read, ‘Race’.

He couldn’t help but let out a laugh that echoed a little too loudly in the gallery. Of course Jack found Race on tinder, that boy would flirt with a bush if he had the chance. And he had seen Race drunk enough times to know that he always found a chance.

Extremely confused at Davey’s outburst, Jack asked, “Why are you laughing?”

“Did you ever notice that both Race and I have the same high school listed in our tinder bios?” It took Jack a couple of seconds to make the connection, and then his jaw dropped.

“Wait, you and Race went to high school together?!”

“Yes, you idiot!” Davey exclaimed, smacking Jack’s arm lightly. “Let me guess, he told you about his smoking habit, thus the burn in the corner?”

Jack just stood there, dumbfounded, for a moment, before nodding. “Yeah. I guess you really do know Race.”

“And I guess he’s too busy with that Sean guy he’s been seeing to come to the gallery tonight.”

“Sorry, did you say Sean?” Jack questioned, not quite believing what he was hearing.

“Yeah, why?!”

“No reason.” Jack just shook his head and smiled in disbelief. So his roommate was in a casual relationship with his date’s friend from high school… damn, Jack really needed to get out more.

Davey kept pulling Jack along to the next drawing. The one adjacent to Race’s had a crowd of one in front of it, and Jack stood next to her in the middle, with Davey flanking his other side. The other admirer spoke up to the pair who had just joined, noting, “Apart from screwing up my name, Jack, I’d say it’s a pretty good representation.”

The girl stood proudly, Sharpie in hand, and had just finished writing ‘Plumber-‘ into the name plaque which now read, ‘Katherine Plumber-Pulitzer’.

So this was the famous Katherine that Davey had been freaking out about. And he couldn’t deny what Jack had told him, she was gorgeous. But he would be able to gather that just from the drawing too. On the wall, Katherine’s thick brown hair blurred into the suffocating black background with two pairs of piercing eyes, “to represent your overbearing parents”, Jack explained to her. Her eyes were larger than what was strictly proportional for the drawing, but it allowed Jack to draw a silhouette of a girl reflected in her eyes, “to show your crush on that girl in your class… Sarah, wasn’t it?” The final touch was newspaper headlines decorating the collar of her shirt, because “that’s obvious, you’re a journalism student, like my Davey here.”

“You study journalism too?” Davey could feel Katherine’s sharp eyes trained on him, so he shook himself out of his drawing-induced reverie.

“I, yes. I do. But I’m a year or two below-” His affirmation made Katherine light up, and he could see why Jack wanted to draw a woman as beautiful as her.

“Oh hush,” she said, cutting off his explanation that his skills are a few years behind hers. “We’ll have to chat about it sometime, I’m sure Jack can give you my number.”

Leaning over to envelop Katherine into a hug, Jack whispered a thanks into Katherine’s ear for showing up. Jack hadn’t told Davey the entirety of what happened in Katherine’s portrait sitting, and what they discussed. They spent nearly the whole time discussing their respective crushes, and Katherine managed to convince Jack to ask Davey to be his date for the showing tonight - as long as she asked her art history girl out for coffee. And she did so after their next class, so Jack had to hold up his end of the bargain. He didn’t have the guts to do it himself, but knowing that Katherine was going to be there to ensure that he did gave him the push he needed. The last thing he wanted was the very intimidating Katherine Plumber-Pulitzer after his head for being too afraid to ask the incredible Davey Jacobs on a date.

“Now go!” She laughed, while pushing Jack out of the hug. “You have more art to show this boy! It was lovely meeting you, Davey.”

“You too, Katherine,” Davey called, as Jack held onto his arm and dragged him along to the next drawing.

They stopped a couple of steps later, in front of a drawing that looked nothing like a person - at first glance it just looked like a pair of sticks. Davey turned his head and asked Jack, “I thought you were drawing people, not still life?”

“I did. Look at the title.”

And Davey did.

‘Charlie “ _Crutchie_ ” Morris’.

It quickly made sense. They weren’t sticks, they were Crutchie’s crutches. This was also the only drawing with an extra explanation beside it, stating, ‘Artist’s Note: I got talking to Crutchie one day through a mutual friend, and asked if he’d want to join my project. Upon accepting, he had one condition: that I didn’t make it a piece redeeming his ‘humanity’ _despite_ his disability. Crutchie is a person who is happy to use his disability as a strong identifier for who he is, but understands that not all disabled people do this. After all, the nickname that his friends call him, and insisted that I call him, is based on his disability. After talking with him, we both decided that to best represent him, we weren’t going to downplay the importance of his disability for Crutchie. Instead of drawing his portrait, I drew his crutches, one of the most important things in his life. This is how Crutchie wanted to be represented, as he recognises that this is often the first thing a stranger sees about him. And he’s already asked to have this drawing framed for his living room when the showcase finishes.’

Davey could feel the tears welling up in his eyes, and tried to furiously blink them back. It was such a touching representation of his best friend, and the fact that Jack would create something so beautiful effected him more than he’d care to say. With a quiet voice that surprised Jack, Davey asked, “when did you meet Crutchie?”

“On Sunday, I found some flashcards you left at my place before I left to meet Katherine. I came over to your place to give them to you, but you weren’t there. Crutchie said you were at the library studying, and invited me in to have a chat. We got talking, and that drawing was the result. I invited him tonight, but he didn’t want to intrude on our date.”

Bursting into astonished giggles, Davey was genuinely surprised that Crutchie - widely known as being too excitable to ever keep a secret for more than a couple of hours - didn’t tell him this earlier. “That bastard,” he whispered under his breath, and a slightly shocked look on Jack’s face showed that he heard Davey’s mutterings. “He helped me get ready tonight and he isn’t tell me that he was a part of this! I gotta get a photo of this.”

Turning his back to the drawing , he pulled up his phone and yanked Jack into the shot. Posing so that the crutches could be seen between him and Jack, Davey snapped the selfie of the unlikely trio, and sent it off to Crutchie without a caption. That boy was going to get an ear full and a giant hug when Davey got home.

Jack was able to see that Davey was ready to move onto the next drawing, so he took hold of Davey’s hands to halt him. Standing in from of him and taking a shaky breath, Jack looked Davey dead in the eyes. “Just so you know Dave, this next one is a bit bigger than the rest. And it means a lot of me.” The sincerity in Jack’s eyes scared Davey a little, so he nodded and intertwined Jack’s fingers with his in a bid to calm down the artist. Davey could see Jack’s shoulders sag a little as he sighed, a little bit of tension melting away with the contact. Uttering, “let’s go,” Jack pulled Davey around the corner and braced himself.

Davey knew that his drawing must be coming up, but he was too occupied thinking about the anxious artist beside him. So when he saw a large canvas on the wall, he didn’t think much of it. Honestly, he thought they wandered into someone else’s space, because Jack was only doing drawings on A3 pieces of paper. It was only when he took a couple of steps forward to drink in the details did he let out a gasp.

The painting was of him.

It was a canvas around the same size as A0 paper, with a deep blue background. His portrait was painted face-on, his green eyes crinkled at the corners and stood out in contrast to his pale skin with a fair smattering of freckles. His mouth curved gently upwards in a contented smile, while a gentle wash of pink adorned his cheeks. Of course Jack had to paint him as the blushing fool he was. A light blue kippah was perched on top of his black hair - Jack managed to make his hair look much more styled than Davey could ever achieve. But what truly caught Davey’s eye was the centre of the painting. The painted rendition of him was wearing the same black button up shirt that he wore to Starbucks the first time that him and Jack met, with one vital addition. On the right side of Davey’s chest, there was a heart outlined and filled with the rainbow, and a white Star of David in the centre of the colourful heart. Above where real Davey’s heart would be.

It was beautiful.

The way Jack captured his nuances - his right shoulder was pulled up slightly higher than his left, a habit from carrying a schoolbag that was too heavy - to being able to seamlessly incorporate such important information - his Judaism and his sexuality - blew Davey away. It was far more than he ever expected. He was planning on a simple coloured sketch that took an afternoon or so to complete, with a couple of the details they talked about to be incorporated in subtle ways. The thought of being the painted canvas centrepiece of a drawing exhibition never crossed his mind. Until a few moments ago.

“I remember you telling me,” a gentle voice from behind him started, “about how you were now _‘pretty happy to say that you’re a gay Jew’_ , and that’s what struck me the most from your portrait sitting. So I wanted that to be the focus. The muted background and your dark shirt were meant to bring focus to this incredibly generous and bright and fulfilled heart that you have. A place for two things that have been discouraged in the past, and well, the present, to live harmoniously. That’s something I really admire about you, Dave.” He could feel Jack’s arms wind around his waist from behind him, as Davey clamped a hand over his mouth, still in shock that Jack actually painted him.

“And I couldn’t capture all that in just a drawing, so over the span of a couple of weeks I convinced Specs to let me bend the rules and paint a portrait of you instead. I had to find a way to make your eyes shine as much as they do when you’re reading a new back, and a way to show how you blush when I flirt with you, and how important both your religion and sexuality is to you. And the only way I could find to do that was with paint and a big-ass canvas. All I can hope is that this isn’t way over the top and scaring you off.” He felt Jack let out a self-depreciating laugh and drop his head against his shoulder. It took a lot of guts for Jack to do what he did. He took a huge risk, placing both the grading of an assignment on Davey and heralding his admiration - and dare he say, adoration? - for him in public. And who was Davey anyway? Just some random guy on a dating app, that an algorithm helped Jack find, that placed their fate on a simple swipe on a screen. It was a slightly ridiculous situation that they were in, but one that also felt incredibly right.

Turning his back on the painting, Davey enveloped Jack in a tight hug, holding onto his shoulders as Jack gripped his waist. They just stood there for a few seconds, drinking in the comfort of being so close to each other. Davey gently murmured in Jack’s ear, “It’s perfect, I love it. Thank you.” He pulled back slowly, and placed a soft kiss just under Jack’s cheekbone. Davey could feel Jack’s eyelashes flutter against his skin, and Jack’s arms gripped him tighter, prolonging the moment by keeping Davey close.

Letting his arms drop to Davey’s elbows, Jack asked, “you really like it?” Ignoring the way his voice cracked in nerves, he was overjoyed to see Davey nod.

“Of course I do, Jack.”

“And it’s not too much?”

“Not at all, it’s amazing. I mean, I’d normally ask you to buy me dinner before you did something like this, but you already have!” Davey giggled as Jack looked down and nudged his shoes against Davey’s - a modified nervous habit of scuffing his own shoes.

Davey cast his gaze down to see what Jack was doing with his feet, as he heard Jack take a shallow breath. He saw Jack lift his hand from its location holding his own arm, and he tucked a finger under Davey’s chin. He used this hand to push Davey’s chin up, making Davey look into his date’s eyes.They stood in a heavy silence for one, two, three seconds, before Davey saw Jack’s eyes flicker down to his lips. Another second passed before Jack lent in. Another second passed before Jack’s eyes closed. And then Davey felt Jack’s lips against his.

It wasn’t his first kiss, but it was his first kiss that truly mattered. With someone that truly mattered. Jack’s lips were slightly chapped and pushed softly against his, moving slowly. Their noses bumped together as Jack moved his other hand to Davey’s back, the pressure grounding Davey in the moment. It made their chests touch, and Davey hoped that Jack couldn’t feel the strength of his heart beats through his shirt. He could feel Jack’s gentle exhales dance across his cheek and Jack’s hint of stubble tickled his jaw line. He brought a shaky hand up to caress the painter’s jaw, making him sigh into the kiss.

Upon hearing Jack’s contentment, Davey started to smile, effectively ending the kiss. No longer being able to kiss him, Jack pulled back as his date ducked his head to hide his broad smile from the gorgeous man that just kissed him. Jack pressed a tender kiss to Davey’s forehead, taking advantage of the taller boy’s downwards gaze. Davey dropped his hand down to Jack’s waist, and lightly squeezing it in a way that he hoped expressed his complete joy and gratitude for the selfless artist.

They stood still for a few moments, Jack pressing his forehead against Davey’s, his arms wrapped around Davey’s torso while the other place his hands on Jack’s waist. They were breathing into the small the gap between them, the sound of their own heartbeats loud in their ears. Out of nowhere, Jack muttered, “I have an idea” - whether to himself or to Davey, the other boy didn’t truly know. Jack pressed a chaste kiss to Davey’s forehead, whispering, “stay right here,” as he extracted his arms from Davey’s. He turned quickly on his heel and darted around the corner, and a yelp of, “Katherine!” could be heard. An unintelligible but brief conversation followed, and not 20 seconds later Jack came back to Davey.

He walked past his date, grazing a hand against Davey’s, and strided up to the painting on the wall. There was a faint pop sound and Jack bent down to the wall next to the painting, an unpleasant squeaking sound filling the space. Staring quizzically at the back of Jack’s head, Davey had no idea what was going on. Until Jack stepped back with a huge grin on his face, and gesturing for Davey to step closer. As he did so, he could see that Jack had taken Katherine’s sharpie from her and written on the name plaque next to Davey’s painting. More accurately, he had striked out ‘ _Davey Jacobs_ ’, and wrote two words above it.

_My boyfriend_

Jack’s confident smile and the pride that was radiating from him would’ve made Davey swoon if he wasn’t still dealing with the after-effects of Jack’s glorious kiss. He just tipped his head back and laughed at exactly how much he’d fallen for this ridiculous man. And he didn’t regret a single bit of it.

The warm and fuzzy feeling that was spreading through his body gave Davey the confidence to step forward, experimentally wind his fingers through the hair at the nape of Jack’s neck, and close the gap between the two of them. Jack cupped Davey’s jaw in his hands and Davey grabbed at the loose sections of the shirt on Jack’s back, other people in the gallery be damned. Their lips moved in a silent harmony with each other, quiet breaths and noises of appreciation shared between the two of them. It was only their second kiss, but they were already learning how the other’s lips moved and how they felt under each other’s fingertips, and it was enough to make them realise how much they had been missing out on until now.

Tinder got Jack a boyfriend and an A on an art class assignment, and it got Davey a boyfriend and a giant painting of himself to hang in his apartment. And neither of them would’ve wanted it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done! To everyone who has left kudos and comments, thank you for keeping my enjoyment for writing going. It means so much more to me than you'll ever know.  
> I have a few other things lined up for later on, so stay tuned!
> 
> In the meantime, find me on tumblr on @this-is-big-lady. 
> 
> Sending lots of love and aroha out to everyone who has stuck with me to the very end, you guys rock. I'll see you all on the next one!


End file.
